The concept of embeddedness, turned into an economic concept
by Karl Polanyi, is the idea that the economy and the society are inextricably
linked. The economy is undergirded by social relations, and social relations
are affected by the economy. The economic decisions we make are not done in some
sort of void, but they affect all of us. I think we all understand this to an
extent, but we don’t always factor it into our decisions.
For example, this summer I was travelling in a van towards
the Cambodian capital of Phnom Penh. Around 6pm, we were nearing the capital
and started to see throngs of people outside of large gated complexes. Many of
them were dressed the same; many of them were women. We drove by countless 8-ton
trucks serving as makeshift transports for these people, dozens in each one, standing
shoulder to shoulder like packed sardines. We didn’t know what was going on.
Later, we found out—we had been driving by at shift change at the garment
factories. It was a sobering reminder of the embeddedness of the economy and
the society. For, though we are not aware of it, our decisions affect these
women, and affect the social landscape of Cambodia. Most of the time, we don't see the people with whom we are connected economically. Our desire to buy cheap,
new sneakers has an effect that reaches around the world—we are supporting the
jobs of retail workers in Canada, of transport workers, of garment workers in
Cambodia. They depend on us, in the same way we depend on them. We depend on
one another in this intricate dance. Though we may feel like these garment workers
in Cambodia are the farthest thing from us, in fact we all depend on one
another.
Low-quality photo snapped while driving past the factories |
Watching It’s a Wonderful Life, Frank Capra’s 1946 Christmas
classic, I can’t help but think about this concept of membership. In this film,
the young George Bailey is stuck in his small town, giving up his dreams of
travel and college to help run his family business, resisting the local capitalist
mogul in the process. Much of the first half of the movie is centred on George
Bailey giving up his own dreams from a sense of duty: first, on the eve of his own
round-the-world trip, he makes a last-minute to stay in the community to rescue the
family business rather than let the selfish slum lord Mr. Potter take it over. He
even gives his college savings to his little brother. Later, there is a bank
run in the town and George and his new bride Mary offer their honeymoon savings
to the townspeople to save them from selling their lives away to the almost comically-evil
Mr. Potter.
The height of the conflict in the movie comes when the family
business is in danger of closing yet again (due to a silly mistake combined
with Mr. Potter’s slimy ways), and Mr. Potter points out how big George’s life
insurance policy is, claiming that “You’re worth more dead than alive.” Mr. Potter does not see the inherent worth of George as a human-- he only sees the bottom line. George,
weighed down with the idea that he has let down his entire community, is driven
to suicide. Thank goodness a hapless angel named Clarence steps in.
It’s a Wonderful Life is a film about membership. From the
start, George Bailey has a strong sense of membership, and the responsibility
therein. He has faith in the people of the town. Consider the bank run scene. The
Bailey Building and Loan is filled with desperate people, and they are about to
leave for Mr. Potter’s. He stops them with this speech (as only Jimmy Stewart can)
: “Now listen...now listen to me. I-I beg of you not to do this thing. If
Potter gets a hold of this Building and Loan, there'll never be another decent house
built in this town. He's already got
charge of the bank. He's got the bus line. He's got the department stores. And
now he's after us. Why? Well, it's very simple. Because we're cutting in on his
business, that's why. And because he
wants to keep you living in his slums and paying the kind of rent he decides. Joe,
you had one of those Potter houses, didn't you? Well, have you forgotten? Have
you forgotten what he charged for that broken-down shack? Here, Ed. You know,
you remember last year when things weren't going so well, you couldn't make
your payments. You didn't lose your house, did you? Do you think Potter would
have let you keep it? Ca-Can't you understand what's happening here? Don't you
see what's happening? Potter isn't selling. Potter's buying. And why? Because
we're panicky and he's not. That's why. He's picking up some bargains. Now,
We-We can get through this thing all right. We-We've got to stick together,
though. We've got to have faith in each other.”
And of course, as everyone is offering their “Buts,” his
wife jumps in, offering their honeymoon money. George and Mary Bailey don’t
just say “We’ve got to stick together,” they show it through actions. They put
themselves at the mercy of the town. They are members, after all. They know
that their prosperity is tied up with the prosperity of the community. They
know that if the community is going down, they’ll go down with it.
Throughout the whole movie, the Baileys confound Mr. Potter.
His logic, his logic of independence and making money for himself at the expense
of others, does not have room for the idea of membership that the Baileys know so
well.
I believe that our economic ideology and system
(neoliberalism and capitalism) assume that we are more like Mr. Potter than
we are like George Bailey. As we see in the alternate-reality part of It’s a
Wonderful Life, the Mr. Potter option has obvious drawbacks.
After all, as George Bailey passionately says to Mr. Potter:
“Just remember this, Mr. Potter, that this rabble you're talking about... they
do most of the working and paying and living and dying in this community. Well,
it is too much to have them work and pay and live and die in a couple of decent
rooms and a bath? Anyway, my father
didn't think so. People were human beings to him, but to you, a warped, frustrated
old man, they're cattle. Well, in my book, he died a much richer man than
you'll ever be.”
When I saw those garment workers in Cambodia loading onto
trucks to go home after their shifts, it made me think of cattle trucks. I
think our global economic system does treat people like cattle. I think we’re
living in Mr. Potter’s world. But I want to live in George Bailey’s world. I want
to be a responsible member.