logic

Know Your Enemy: What Capitalism Is and How to Defeat It

By Michael A. Lebowitz

Republished from LINKS International Journal of Socialist Renewal.

In a capitalist society, there is always a good explanation for your poverty, your meaningless job (if you have a job), your difficulties and your general unhappiness. You are to blame. It is your failure. After all, look at other people who do succeed. If only you had worked a little harder, studied a little more, made those sacrifices.

We are told that anybody who works hard can become a success. Anyone can save up and become your own boss, a boss with employees. And there is some truth to this. Often, any one person can do these things–but we can’t conclude from this that every person can. It is a basic fallacy to conclude that because one person can do something, therefore everyone can. One person can see better in the theater if he stands, but if everyone stands no one can see better. Anyone can get the last seat on the plane, but everyone can’t. Any country can cut its costs and become more competitive, but every country cannot become more competitive by cutting costs.

The lessons they want you to learn

So, what does this focus upon the individual tell you? It tells you that it’s your own fault, that you are your own worst enemy. But maybe you don’t accept that. Maybe what’s holding you back is those other people. The problem is those people of color, the immigrants, indeed everyone willing to work for less who is taking a job away from you. They are the enemy because they compete with you. They’re the ones who force you to take a job for much less than you deserve, if you are to get a job at all.

The prison

Think about what’s known as “The Prisoners’ Dilemma”. Two people have been arrested for a crime, and each is separately made an offer: if you confess and the other prisoner doesn’t, you will get a very short sentence. But if the other confesses and you don’t, you will be in jail for a long time. So, each separately decides to confess. That’s a lot like your situation. The Workers’ Dilemma is: do I take the low wage job with little security or do I stay unemployed? “If everything were left to isolated, individual bargaining,” argued the General Council of the International Workingman’s Association (in which Karl Marx was a central figure), competition would, if unchecked, “reduce the producers of all wealth to a starvation level.” Of course, if the prisoners were able to cooperate, they would be much better off. And so are workers.

Immigrants, people of color, people in other countries are not inherently enemies. The other prisoners are not the enemy. Something, though, wants you to see each other as enemies. That something is the prison–the structure in which we all exist. That is the enemy: capitalism.

The secret

The separation of workers in capitalism is not an accident. Capitalism, which emerged historically in a time of slavery, extermination of indigenous peoples and patriarchy, has always searched actively for ways to prevent workers from cooperating and combining. How better than to foster differences (real and imagined) such as race, ethnicity, nation and gender, and to convert difference into antagonism! Marx certainly understood how capital thrives upon divisions within the working class. That, he argued, is the secret of capital’s rule. Describing the antagonism in England at the time between English and Irish workers, he explained that this was the secret of the weakness of the English working class–“the secret by which the capitalist class maintains its power. And that class is fully aware of it.” It’s not hard to imagine what he would have said about antagonisms between white and Black workers in the United States; further, the effect of divisions between workers in different countries should not be a secret for workers.

To understand why separation of workers is so central for capitalists, we need to consider the characteristics of capitalism.

Capitalist relations of production

All production begins with “the original sources of all wealth”–human beings and Nature, according to Marx. Production is a process of activity (labor) involving the use of the products of past labor (means of production, including that drawn directly from Nature) to achieve a particular purpose envisioned at the outset. But production under capitalist relations has particular characteristics. By considering the relation between the capitalist class and the working class, we can analyze it as a system and show the connection between many patterns.

Capitalist relations of production are characterized by the relation between the side of capitalists and the side of workers. On the one hand, there are capitalists–the owners of wealth, the owners of the physical and material means of production. Their orientation is toward the growth of their wealth. Beginning with capital of a certain value in the form of money, capitalists purchase commodities with the goal of gaining more money, additional value, surplus value. And that’s the point: profits. As capitalists, all that matters for them is the growth of their capital.

On the other hand, we have workers–people who have neither material goods they can sell nor the material means of producing the things they need for themselves. Without those means of production, they can’t produce commodities to sell in the market to exchange. So, how do they get the things they need? By selling the only thing they do have available to sell, their ability to work. They can sell it to whomever they choose, but they cannot choose whether or not to sell their power to perform labor … if they are to survive. In short, workers need money to buy the things they need to maintain themselves and their families.

The logic of capital

But why does the capitalist want to hire workers? Because by doing so, he gains control over the worker’s capacity in the workplace. Marx commented that once the worker agrees to sell his capacity to the capitalist, “he who was previously the money-owner now strides out in front as a capitalist; the possessor of labor-power follows as his worker.” Through his command over the worker, the capitalist is able to compel the extraction of more labor from the worker’s capacity than the labor he is paying for; or stated another way, he can get more value from the employment of the worker than he pays in the form of wages. A coercive relationship of “supremacy and subordination” of capital over workers is the basis for exploitation–surplus labor and surplus value.

Since the capitalist’s goal is the growth of his wealth, he is always searching for ways to achieve this. Nothing is fixed for him. So, he can try to increase exploitation of the worker by extracting more labor from her–for example, by extending the workday. Similarly, the pores of the given workday, when the worker pauses or takes a bathroom break, are a waste for the capitalist, so he does what he can to intensify the pace of work (“speed-up”). Every moment workers rest is time they are not working for capital.

Further, for workers to be able to rest away from work allows capital more room to intensify the pace of work. The existence of unpaid labor within the household reduces the amount of the wage that must be spent upon necessities and facilitates the driving down of the wage. In this way, capitalism supports the maintenance of patriarchy and exploitation within the household.

Both by intensification of work and by driving wages downward, surplus labor and surplus value are increased. Accordingly, it’s easy to understand why Marx commented that “the capitalist [is] constantly tending to reduce wages to their physical minimum and extend the working day to its physical maximum.” He continued, however, saying “while the working man constantly presses in the opposite direction.”

Class struggle

In other words, within the framework of capitalist relations, while capital pushes to increase the workday, both in length and intensity, and to drive down wages, workers struggle to reduce the workday and increase wages. Just as there is struggle from the side of capital, so also is there class struggle from the side of the worker. Why? Take the struggle over the workday, for example. Why do the workers want more time for themselves? Time, Marx noted, is “the room of human development. A man who has no free time to dispose of, whose whole lifetime, apart from the mere physical interruptions by sleep, meals, and so forth, is absorbed by his labor for the capitalist, is less than a beast of burden.” And the same is true if all your energy is consumed by the pace of work so that all you can do is collapse at home.

What about the struggle for higher wages? Of course, workers have physical requirements to survive that must be obtained. But they need much more than this. The worker’s social needs, Marx commented at the time, include “the worker’s participation in the higher, even cultural satisfactions, the agitation for his own interests, newspaper subscriptions, attending lectures, educating his children, developing his taste, etc.” Of course, our social needs now are different. We live in society and our needs are formed by that. While we struggle to satisfy those needs through higher wages, capital resists because it means lower profits.

What determines the outcome of this struggle between the capitalist and worker? We already have seen what determines the relative power of the combatants–the degree of separation of workers. The more workers are separated and competing against each other, the longer and more intense the workday and the lower the wages they get. In particular, the more unemployment there is, the more workers find themselves competing for part-time and precarious work in order to survive.

Remember, though, that Marx pointed out that “the working man constantly presses in the opposite direction.” Workers press in the opposite direction to capital by struggling to reduce the separation among them. For workers in capitalism to make gains in terms of their workdays, their wages and their ability to satisfy their needs, they need to unite against capital; they need to overcome their divisions and competition among workers. That was and is the point of trade unions–to strengthen workers in their struggle within capitalism.

Of course, capital doesn’t bow down and give up when workers organize. It does everything it can to weaken and evade trade unions. How does capital respond? By using racism and sexism to divide workers. It brings in people to compete for work by working for less–for example, immigrants, impoverished people from the countryside. It subcontracts and outsources so organized workers can be replaced. It uses the state–its state–to regulate, outlaw and destroy unions. It shuts down operations and moves to parts of the world where people are poor and unions are banned. Even threatening to shut down and move is a powerful weapon because of the fear that workers have of losing their jobs. All this is logical from the perspective of capital. The logic of capital is to do everything possible to pit workers against each other because that increases the rate of exploitation.

Why capital reorganizes production

The struggle between capitalists and workers, thus, is a struggle over the degree of separation among workers. Precisely because workers do resist wages being driven to an absolute minimum and the workday to an absolute maximum, capitalists look for other ways for capital to grow. Accordingly, they are driven to revolutionize the production process: where possible, they introduce machinery and organize the workplace to displace workers. By doing so, the same number of workers can produce more–increased productivity. In itself, that’s not bad. The effect of the incorporation of science and the products of the social brain into production offers the obvious potential to eliminate poverty in the world and to make possible a substantially reduced workday. (Time, after all, is room for human development). Yet, remember, those are not the goals of the capitalist. That is not why capital introduces these changes in the mode of production. Rather than a reduced total workday, what capital wants is the reduction in the portion of the workday that workers work for themselves, the reduction of “necessary labor”; it wants to maximize surplus labor and the rate of exploitation.

But what prevents workers from being the beneficiaries of increased productivity–through rising real wages as the costs of production of commodities fall? There are two reasons why these changes in the workplace tend to benefit capitalists rather than workers. One is the bias of those changes, and the other is the general effect upon the working class.

The bias of productive forces introduced by capital

Remember that the technology and techniques of production that capital introduces is oriented to only one thing: profits. The logic of capital points to the selection of techniques that will divide workers from one another and permit easier surveillance and monitoring of their performance. Further, the changes may permit the displacement of particular skilled workers by relatively unskilled (and less costly) workers. The specific productive forces introduced by capital, in short, are not neutral–capital has no intention of introducing changes that reduce the separation of workers in the workplace. They are also not neutral in another way: they divide mental and manual labor and separate “the intellectual faculties of the production process from manual labor.” Indeed, “all means for the development of production,” Marx stressed about capitalism, “distort the worker into a fragment of a man, they degrade him” and “alienate from him the intellectual potentialities of the labor process.”

But that’s not capital’s concern. Capital isn’t interested in whether the technology chosen permits producers to grow or to find any pleasure and satisfaction in their work. Nor about what happens to people who are displaced when new technology and new machines are introduced. If your skills are destroyed, if your job disappears, so be it. Capital gains, you lose. Marx’s comment was that “within the capitalist system all methods for raising the social productivity of labor are put into effect at the cost of the individual worker.”

The reserve army of labor

There is another way that capital gains by the changes it introduces in the workplace. Every worker displaced by the substitution of machinery and technology adds to the reserve army of labor. Not only does the existence of this body of unemployed workers permit capital to exert discipline within the workplace, but it also keeps wages within limits consistent with profitable capitalist production. And that’s the point–in capitalism, unemployment, the existence of a reserve army, is not an accident. If there’s full employment, wages tend to rise and capital faces difficulty in imposing subordination within the workplace. That’s unacceptable for capital, and it’s why capital moves to displace workers. The simultaneous existence of unmet needs and unemployment of workers may seem irrational, but it is perfectly rational for capital because all that matters for capital is profits.

Capital achieves the same result when it moves to other countries or regions to escape workers who are organized–it replenishes the reserve army and ensures that even those workers who do organize and struggle do not succeed in keeping real wages rising as rapidly as productivity. The value produced by workers rises relative to what they are paid because capital increases the separation of workers. Even with rising real wages, Marx argued that the rate of exploitation would increase–the “abyss between the life-situation of the worker and that of the capitalist would keep widening.”

In the absence of extraordinary successes on the part of workers, capital has the upper hand in the sphere of production. Through its control of production and over the nature and direction of investment, it can increase the degree of exploitation of workers and expand the production of surplus value. Yet, there is an inherent contradiction in capitalism: capital cannot remain in the sphere of production but must return to the sphere of circulation and sell the commodities that have been produced under these conditions.

The logic of capitalist circulation

Capitalists do not want these commodities containing surplus value. Their goal isn’t to consume those commodities. What they want is to sell those commodities and to make real the surplus value latent within them. They want the money.

Exploitation in the sphere of circulation

To turn commodities containing surplus value into money, capitalists need people to work in the sphere of circulation. Of course, they want to spend as little as possible in their circulation costs because those lower the potential profits generated in the sphere of production. So, the logic of capital dictates that it should exploit workers involved in selling these commodities as much as possible. The lower the wages and the higher the intensity of work, the lower capital’s costs and the higher the profits after sale. Thus, for distribution outlets and commodity delivery, capitalists have introduced elaborate methods of surveillance and punishment, paralleling what Lenin called early in the last century the scientific extraction of sweat in the sphere of production. Further, wherever possible, capital will use casual labor, part-time labor, precarious workers–this is how it can exploit workers in the sphere of circulation the most.

And it’s not simply the workers in the formal sphere of capitalist circulation that capital exploits. When there is very high unemployment, capital can take great advantage of this–it can transfer the risk of selling to workers. In some countries, a large reserve army of the unemployed makes it possible for capital to use what is called the informal sector to complete the circuit of capital. (The commodities sold in the informal sector don’t drop from the sky; for the most part, they are produced within capitalist relations.) These workers are part of the circuit of capitalist production and circulation, but they have none of the benefits and relative security of workers formally employed by capital. They look like independent operators, but they depend upon the capitalist, and the capitalist depends upon them to sell those commodities containing surplus value. Like unorganized workers everywhere, they compete against each other–and capital benefits by how little the sale of commodities is costing it.

Capital’s need for an expanding market

Of course, the proof of the pudding is whether those commodities that contain surplus value can be sold. They must be sold not in some abstract market but in a specific market–one marked by the specific conditions of capitalist production (that is, exploitation). In the sphere of circulation, capitalists face a barrier to their growth: the extent of the market. In the same way, then, that the logic of capital drives capitalists to increase surplus value within the sphere of production, it also compels them to increase the size of market in order to realize that surplus value. Once you understand the nature of capitalism, you can see why capital is necessarily driven to expand the sphere of circulation.

Creating new needs to consume 

How does capital expand the market? One way is by “the production of new needs”. The capitalist, Marx pointed out, does everything he can to convince people to consume more, “to give his wares new charms, to inspire them with new needs by constant chatter, etc.” It was only in the 20th Century, however, that the expansion of output due to the development of the specifically capitalist mode of production made the complementary sales effort so essential. Advertising to create new needs now was everywhere. The enormous expenditures in modern capitalism upon advertising; the astronomical salaries offered to professional athletes whose presence can increase the advertising revenues that can be captured by mass media–what else is this (and so much more like it) but testimony to capital’s successes in the sphere of production? Those commodities must be sold; the market must be expanded by creating new needs. There is, in short, an organic link between the poverty wages paid to workers who produce sports equipment and the million-dollar contracts of star athletes.

Globalization of needs

There’s another way that capital expands the market: by propagating existing needs in a wider circle. Whatever the size of market, capitalists are always attempting to expand it. Faced with limits in the existing sphere of circulation, capital drives to widen that sphere. “The tendency to create the world market is directly given in the concept of capital itself. Every limit appears as a barrier to be overcome,” Marx commented. Thus, capital strives “to tear down every spatial barrier” to exchange and to “conquer the whole earth for its market.”

In this process, the mass media play a central role. The specific characteristics of national cultures and histories mean nothing to capital. Through the mass media, capital’s logic tends to conquer the world through the homogenization of standards and needs everywhere. Everywhere the same commercials, the same commodities, the same culture–unique cultures and histories are a barrier to capital in the sphere of circulation.

The accumulation of capital

Inherent in the nature of capital is the overwhelming tendency to grow. We see capital constantly attempting to increase exploitation by extending and intensifying the workday and by lowering the wage absolutely and relatively. When it comes up against barriers to growth–as in the case of worker resistance–we see capital drives beyond those barriers by investing in labor-saving machinery and by relocating to areas where workers accept lower wages. Similarly, when it comes up against barriers in terms of the limits of existing markets, capital does not accept the prospect of no-growth, but drives beyond those barriers by investing in advertising to generate new needs and by creating new markets for its commodities. With the profits it realizes through the successful sale of commodities, it expands its operations in order to generate more growth in the future. The history of capitalism is a story of the growth of large, powerful corporations.

Growth interruptus

Capital’s growth, however, is not consistent. It goes through booms and slumps, periods of acceleration and periods of crisis. Crises are inherent in the system itself. They flow from imbalances generated by the process of capital accumulation.

Consider what Marx described as “overproduction, the fundamental contradiction of developed capitalism.” He did not mean overproduction relative to peoples’ needs; rather, it was overproduction of commodities containing surplus value relative to the ability to realize that surplus value through sale of those commodities. But why did this happen periodically? Simply because there are inner structural requirements for the balance of production and realization of surplus value given by the rate of exploitation. However, those balance conditions tend to be violated by the actions of capitalists, who act as if no such conditions exist. Since capitalist production takes place, Marx pointed out, “without any consideration for the actual limits of the market or needs backed by the ability to pay,” there is a “constant tension between the restricted dimensions of consumption on the capitalist basis, and a production that is constantly striving to overcome these immanent barriers.”

In particular, capital’s success in driving up the rate of exploitation in order to grow tends to come back to haunt it when it comes to selling commodities. Sooner or later, the violation of the balance conditions produces a reckoning in which that apparent indifference to those conditions produces a crisis. Commodities containing surplus value cannot be sold; and if they cannot be sold, they will not be produced and thus the crisis spreads. However, “transitory over-abundance of capital, over-production and crises”, Marx stressed, do not bring capitalism to an end. Rather, they produce “violent eruptions that reestablish the disturbed balance for the time being.” The effect of the crisis is “to restore the correct relation between necessary and surplus labor, on which, in the last analysis, everything depends.” Until the next time. Such crises are inevitable, but they are not permanent.

There is a second systemic imbalance that interrupts the growth of capital. When capital tied up in means of production rises relative to that used for the purchase of the labor power–the source of surplus value–the rate of profit falls, dampening the accumulation of capital. This tends to occur when productivity in the production of means of production lags behind productivity gains in general. Marx, however, explicitly argued that there would be no tendency for the rate of profit to fall if productivity increases were equal in all sectors. So, why that productivity lag in the sector producing means of production? Although random patterns are always possible, there is no systemic reason for productivity change in that portion of means of production represented by machinery to fall behind; however, Marx identified an obvious reason for lags in productivity in the raw material portion of means of production.

After all, when it comes to agriculture and extractive industries, natural conditions, as well as social forces, play a role in productivity growth. Indeed, Marx argued that it is “unavoidable when capitalist production is fully developed, that the production and increase in the portion of constant capital that consists of fixed capital, machinery, etc. may run significantly ahead of the portion consisting of organic raw materials, so that the demand for those raw materials grows more rapidly than their supply and their price therefore rises.” Especially in boom periods, relative underproduction of raw materials and overproduction of fixed capital is predictable. Developed capital, he declared, “acquires an elasticity, a capacity for sudden extension by leaps and bounds, which comes up against no barriers but those presented by the availability of raw materials and the extent of sales outlets.” With relative underproduction of raw materials, the rate of profit falls; “the general law [is] that, with other things being equal, the rate of profit varies inversely as the value of the raw material.” And, as noted, falling profit rates bring accumulation to an end. These barriers explain why capitalism is characterized by booms, crisis and stagnation.

But barriers are not limits. They can be transcended. In particular, capital is not passive when faced by relative underproduction of raw materials. Marx noted that among the effects of rising raw material prices are that (1) these raw materials are supplied from a greater distance; (2) their production is expanded; (3) substitutes are now employed that were previously unused; and (4) there is more economical use of waste products. Precisely because relative underproduction of raw materials produces rising prices and relatively rising profit rates in those sectors, capital inevitably flows to those sectors.  Indeed, “a condition of production founded on capital”, Marx stressed, is “exploration of the earth in all directions” and of all of Nature to discover new raw materials. Capital, in short, responds to this barrier by seeking ways to posit its growth again; and, to the extent it is successful, it enters a phase (whether cycle or long wave) characterized by relatively declining raw material values and a rising rate of profit.

Because capital is an actor, left to itself it has a tendency to restore the disturbed balances. While economic crises are inevitable, that does not mean–as some believe–that capitalism will collapse. Again, every apparent limit to capitalism is a barrier to be overcome. Crises produce interruptions but growth continues.

The tendency for capitalist globalization

We have already seen the underlying basis for imperialism. Capital’s drive for profits leads it to search for new, cheaper sources of raw materials and new markets in which to sell commodities. Further, we’ve seen that capital will move in order to find workers who can be exploited more: workers who are unorganized and weak, workers willing to work for low wages and under poor working conditions and, in particular, separated from organized workers. When you understand the logic of capital, you understand that global capitalism is inherent in capital itself; that it drives “to tear down every spatial barrier” to its goal of profits.

Wherever possible, capital will try to get what it needs through the market–for example, as the result of the competition of primary producing countries to sell or the availability of a large pool of workers to exploit in production. However, capital follows the motto of “as much market as possible, as much state as necessary”. If necessary, it draws heavily upon the coercive power of the state.

Capital’s state 

The state is not neutral. It reflects the dominant forces in society, and within capitalism (except in extraordinary circumstances) it belongs to capital. Accordingly, it functions to support capitalist exploitation and the production and realization of surplus value. Thus, its institutions will foster scientific and technical development at public expense that can increase profits. And, when needed to support its rule, capital will use the power of the state to enact “bloody legislation” and “grotesquely terroristic laws” that keep workers in the capitalist prison. That state will use its police and judicial powers to keep the working class at the desired level of dependence. It will act to alleviate economic crises, will accept reforms that do not threaten capital, and will remove those that do. Thus, it will put an end to what at some point may seem to be a social compact when conditions change, so it no longer needs that appearance. As long as the state belongs to capital, that state is your enemy.

Capital’s state and globalization 

Capital’s state plays a central role in the process of globalization. For one, capital uses its state to create institutions which ensure that the market will work to achieve its desired goals: international institutions such as the International Monetary Fund, the World Bank, the World Trade Organization and so-called “free trade agreements” (which are really “freedom for capitalists” agreements) all have been created to enforce the logic of capital internationally. By itself, though, this would not be enough, given the desires of people around the world for their own self-development. In particular, once capital has decided to generate surplus value directly in the periphery, it demands the assurance that its investments will be protected. Thus, capital uses the imperialist state to intervene militarily and to support, both by subversion and through financial and military resources, colonial states that act to produce conditions for the reproduction of the capitalist world order.

Imperialism and the colonial state

With the support of local oligarchies and elites, these colonial states are assigned the function of creating the framework in which the market serves capital best. By separating agricultural producers from the land and providing special economic zones for capital to function freely, these instruments of global capital make available the reserve army of labor that capital wants. Further, they are there to police; to use their coercive power to outlaw or otherwise prevent independent trade unions, and to apply grotesquely terroristic laws to support conditions for the growth of capital within their regimes. And, although capitalists speak much about “democracy”, support for undemocratic and authoritarian regimes that will make life (and profits) easier for capital is no accident. Of course, if these colonial states are unable to carry out this function, capital is always prepared to intervene internationally for “humanitarian” purposes. It is not a mere coincidence, for example, that so many United States foreign military bases are located near sources of energy and other raw material supplies.

Imperialism, in short, will stop at nothing. Its history of barbarism demonstrates this over and over again. As Che Guevara pointed out, it is a bestiality that knows no limits–one that tries to crush under its boots anyone who fights for freedom.

What keeps capitalism going?

Think about capitalism: a system in which the needs of capital stand opposite the needs of human beings. The picture is that of an expanding system that both tries to deny human beings the satisfaction of their needs and also constantly conjures up new, artificial needs to seduce them into a pattern of consumerism. A system which both leaves people always wanting more and at the same time threatens life on this planet. It is a Leviathan that devours the working lives of human beings in pursuit of profits, that destroys the skills of people overnight, that fosters imperialist domination of the world, and that uses the coercive power of the state to attack every effort of people to support their own need for development.

What other economic system can you imagine that could generate the simultaneous existence of unused resources, unemployed people, and people with unmet needs for what could be produced? What other economic system would allow people to starve in one part of the world, while elsewhere there is an abundance of food and the complaint is that “too much food is being produced”?

If it is possible to see the social irrationality of capitalism, why is this abomination still around?

The mystification of capital 

Capital continues to rule because people come to view capital as necessary. Because it looks like capital makes the major contribution to society, that without capital there would be no jobs, no income, no life. Every aspect of the social productivity of workers necessarily appears as the social productivity of capital. Even when capital simply combines workers in production, the resulting increase in their social productivity is like a “free gift” to capital. Further, as the result of generations of workers having sold their labor-power to the capitalist, “the social productivity of labour” has been transposed “into the material attributes of capital”; the result is that “the advantages of machinery, the use of science, invention, etc…. are deemed to be the attributes of capital.”

But why does the productivity of workers necessarily look like the productivity of capital? Simply because capital purchased labor-power from the worker and thus owns everything the worker produces. We lose sight of the fact that productivity is the social productivity of the collective producers because of the way the sale of labor-power looks. This act, this central characteristic of capitalism, where the worker surrenders her creative power to the capitalist for a mess of pottage, necessarily disguises what really happens.

When the worker sells the right to use her capacity to the capitalist, the contract doesn’t say “this is the portion of the day necessary for you to maintain yourself at the existing standard and this is the portion the capitalists are getting”. Rather, on the surface, it necessarily looks like workers sell a certain quantity of labor, their entire workday, and get a wage which is (more or less) a fair return for their contribution; that they are paid, in short, for all the labor they perform. How else could it possibly look? In short, it necessarily appears as if the worker is not exploited–that no surplus labor has been performed.

If that’s true, profits must come from the contribution of the capitalist. It’s not only workers, the story goes, the capitalist also makes a contribution; he provides “machinery, the use of science, invention, etc,”, the results of the social productivity of labor over time that appear as “the attributes of capital.” Thus, we all get what we (and our assets) deserve. (Some people just happen to make so much more of a contribution and so deserve that much more!) In short, exploitation of workers is hidden because the buying and selling of the worker’s capacity appears to be a free transaction between equals and ignores the “supremacy and subordination” in the capitalist workplace. This apparent disappearance of exploitation is so significant that Marx called it the source of “all the notions of justice held by both worker and capitalist, all the mystifications of the capitalist mode of production, all capitalism’s illusions about freedom.”

The exploitation of workers is at the core of capitalism. It explains capital’s drive to divide workers in order to grow. Exploitation is the source of the inequality characteristic of capitalism. To fight inequality, we must fight capitalist exploitation. However, inequality is only one aspect of capitalism. In and by itself, exploitation is inadequate to grasp the effects of capital’s drive and thus the products of capitalism. Focus upon exploitation is one-sided because you do not know the enemy unless you understand the double deformation inherent in capitalism.

The double deformation 

Recall that human beings and Nature are the ultimate inputs into production. In capitalist production, they serve specifically as means for the purpose of the growth of capital. The result is deformation–capitalistically-transformed Nature and capitalistically-transformed human beings. Capitalist production, Marx stressed, “only develops the technique and the degree of combination of the social process of production by simultaneously undermining the original sources of all wealth–the soil and the worker.” But why?

The deformation of Nature 

By itself, Nature is characterized by a metabolic process through which it converts various inputs and transforms these into the basis for its reproduction. In his discussion of the production of wheat, for example, Marx identified a “vegetative or physiological process” involving the seeds and “various chemical ingredients supplied by the manure, salts contained in the soil, water, air, light.” Through this process, inorganic components are “assimilated by the organic components and transformed into organic material.” Their form is changed in this metabolic process, from inorganic to organic through what Marx called “the expenditure of nature.” Also, part of the “universal metabolism of nature” is the further transformation of organic components, their deterioration and dying through their “consumption by elemental forces”. In this way, the conditions for rebirth (for example, the “vitality of the soil”) are themselves products of this metabolic process. “The seed becomes the unfolded plant, the blossom fades, and so forth”–birth, death, renewal are moments characteristic of the “metabolism prescribed by the natural laws of life itself.”

This universal metabolism of Nature, however, must be distinguished from the relation in which a human being “mediates, regulates and controls the metabolism between himself and nature.” That labor process involves the “appropriation of what exists in nature for the requirements of man. It is the universal condition for the metabolic interaction between man and nature.” This “ever-lasting nature-imposed condition of human existence,” Marx pointed out, is “common to all forms of society in which human beings live.”

As we have indicated, however, under capitalist relations of production, the preconceived goal of production is the growth of capital. The particular metabolic process that occurs in this case is one in which human labor and Nature are converted into surplus value, the basis for that growth. Accordingly, rather than a process that begins with “man and his labor on one side, nature and its materials on the other,” in capitalist relations the starting point is capital, and “the labor process is a process between things the capitalist has purchased, things which belong to him.” It is “appropriation of what exists in nature for the requirements” not of man but of capital. There is, as noted, “exploration of the earth in all directions” for a single purpose–to find new sources of raw materials to ensure the generation of profits. Nature, “the universal material for labor,” the “original larder” for human existence, is here a means not for human existence but for capital’s existence.

While capital’s tendency to grow by leaps and bounds comes up against a barrier insofar as plant and animal products are “subject to certain organic laws involving naturally determined periods of time”, capital constantly drives beyond each barrier it faces. However, there is a barrier it does not escape. Marx noted, for example, that “the entire spirit of capitalist production, which is oriented towards the most immediate monetary profit–stands in contradiction to agriculture, which has to concern itself with the whole gamut of permanent conditions of life required by the chain of human generations.” Indeed, the very nature of production under capitalist relations violates “the metabolic interaction between man and the earth”; it produces “an irreparable rift in the interdependent process of social metabolism, a metabolism prescribed by the natural laws of life itself.”

That “irreparable” metabolic rift that Marx described is neither a short-term disturbance nor unique to agriculture. The “squandering of the vitality of the soil” is a paradigm for the way in which the “metabolism prescribed by the natural laws of life itself” is violated under capitalist relations of production. In fact, there is nothing inherent in agricultural production that leads to that “squandering of the vitality of the soil”. On the contrary, Marx pointed out that a society can bequeath the earth “in an improved state to succeeding generations.” But this requires an understanding that “agriculture forms a mode of production sui generis, because the organic process is involved, in addition to the mechanical and chemical process, and the natural reproduction process is merely controlled and guided”; the same is true, too, in the case of fishing, hunting, and forestry. Maintenance and improvement of the vitality of the soil and of other sectors dependent upon organic conditions requires the recognition of the necessity for “systematic restoration as a regulative law of social production.”

With every increase in capitalist production, there are growing demands upon the natural environment, and the tendency to exhaust Nature’s larder and to generate unabsorbed and unutilizable waste is not at all limited to the metabolic rift that Marx described with respect to capitalist agriculture. Thus, Marx indicated that “extractive industry (mining is the most important) is likewise an industry sui generis, because no reproduction process whatever takes place in it, at least not one under our control or known to us.” Given capital’s preoccupation with its need to grow, capital has no interest in the contradiction between its logic and the “natural laws of life itself”. The contradiction between its drive for infinite growth and a finite, limited earth is not a concern because, for capital, there is always another source of growth to be found. Like a vampire, it seeks the last possible drop of blood and does not worry about keeping its host alive.

Accordingly, since capital does not worry about “simultaneously undermining the original sources of all wealth–the soil and the worker,” sooner or later it destroys both. Marx’s comment with respect to capital’s drive to drain every ounce of energy from the worker describes capital’s relation to the natural world precisely:

Après moi le deluge! is the watchword of every capitalist and every capitalist nation. Capital therefore takes no account of the health and the length of life of the worker, unless society forces it to do so.

We are seeing the signs of that approaching deluge. Devastating wildfires, droughts, powerful hurricanes, warming oceans, floods, rising sea levels, pollution, pandemics, disappearing species, etc are becoming commonplace–but there is nothing in capital’s metabolic process that would check that. If, for example, certain materials become scarce and costly, capital will not scale back and accept less or no growth; rather, it will scour the earth to search for new sources and substitutes.

Can society prevent the crisis of the earth system, the deluge? Not currently. The ultimate deformation of Nature is the prospect, because the second deformation makes it easier to envision the end of the world than the end of capitalism.

The deformation of human beings 

Human beings are not static and fixed. Rather, they are a work in process because they develop as the result of their activity. They change themselves as they act in and upon the world. In this respect there are always two products of human activity: the change in circumstances and the change in the human being. In the very act of producing, Marx commented, “the producers change, too, in that they bring out new qualities in themselves, develop themselves in production, transform themselves, develop new powers and new ideas, new modes of intercourse, new needs and new language.” In the process of producing, the worker “acts upon external nature and changes it, and in this way he simultaneously changes his own nature.”

In this “self-creation of man as a process,” the character of that human product flows from the nature of that productive activity. Under particular circumstances, that process can be one in which people are able to develop their capacities in an all-rounded way. As Marx put it, “when the worker co-operates in a planned way with others, he strips off the fetters of his individuality, and develops the capabilities of his species”. In such a situation, associated producers may expend “their many different forms of labour-power in full self-awareness as one single social labour force”, and the means of production are “there to satisfy the worker’s own need for development”.

For example, if workers democratically decide upon a plan, work together to achieve its realization, solve problems that emerge, and shift in this process from activity to activity, they engage in a constant succession of acts that expand their capacities. For workers in this situation, there is the “absolute working out of his creative potentialities,” the “complete working out of the human content,” the “development of all human powers as such the end in itself”. Collective activity under these relations produces “free individuality, based on the universal development of individuals and on their subordination of their communal, social productivity as their social wealth.” In the society of the future, Marx concluded, the productive forces of people will have “increased with the all-round development of the individual, and all the springs of co-operative wealth flow more abundantly”.

But that’s not the character of activity under capitalist relations of production, where “it is not the worker who employs the conditions of his work, but rather the reverse, the conditions of work employ the worker.” While we know how central exploitation is from the perspective of capital, consider the effects upon workers of what capital does to ensure that exploitation. We’ve seen how capital constantly attempts to separate workers and, indeed, fosters antagonism among them (the “secret” of its success); how capital introduces changes in production that divides them further, intensifies the production process and expands the reserve army that fosters competition. What’s the effect? Marx pointed out that “all means for the development of production” under capitalism “distort the worker into a fragment of a man,” degrade him and “alienate him from the intellectual potentialities of the labour process”. In Capital, he described the mutilation, the impoverishment, the “crippling of body and mind” of the worker “bound hand and foot for life to a single specialized operation”, which occurs in the division of labor characteristic of the capitalist process of manufacturing. But did the subsequent development of machinery end that crippling of workers? Marx’s response was that under capitalist relations, such developments complete the “separation of the intellectual faculties of the production process from manual labour”. Thinking and doing become separate and hostile, and “every atom of freedom, both in bodily and in intellectual activity” is lost.

In short, a particular type of person is produced in capitalism. Producing within capitalist relations is what Marx called a process of a “complete emptying-out,” “total alienation,” the “sacrifice of the human end-in-itself to an entirely external end”. Indeed, the worker is so alienated that, though working with others, he “actually treats the social character of his work, its combination with the work of others for a common goal, as a power that is alien to him”. In this situation, in order to fill the vacuum of our lives, we need things–we are driven to consume. In addition to producing commodities and capital itself, capitalism produces a fragmented, crippled human being, whose enjoyment consists in possessing and consuming things. More and more things. Capital constantly generates new needs for workers, and it is upon this, Marx noted, that “the contemporary power of capital rests”. In short, every new need for capitalist commodities is a new link in the golden chain that links workers to capital.

Accordingly, rather than producing a working class that wants to put an end to capitalism, capital tends to produce the working class it needs, workers who treat capitalism as common sense. As Marx concluded:

The advance of capitalist production develops a working class which by education, tradition and habit looks upon the requirements of that mode of production as self-evident natural laws. The organization of the capitalist process of production, once it is fully developed, breaks down all resistance.

To this, he added that capital’s generation of a reserve army of the unemployed “sets the seal on the domination of the capitalist over the worker”. That constant generation of a relative surplus population of workers means, Marx argued, that wages are “confined within limits satisfactory to capitalist exploitation, and lastly, the social dependence of the worker on the capitalist, which is indispensable, is secured”. Accordingly, Marx concluded that the capitalist can rely upon the worker’s “dependence on capital, which springs from the conditions of production themselves, and is guaranteed in perpetuity by them.”

However, while it is possible that workers may remain socially dependent upon capital in perpetuity, that doesn’t mean that capital’s incessant growth can continue in perpetuity. In fact, given that workers deformed by capital accept capital’s requirement to grow “as self-evident natural laws”, their deformation supports the deformation of Nature. In turn, the increase in flooding, drought and other extreme climate changes and resulting mass migrations that are the product of the deformation of Nature intensify divisions and antagonism among workers. The crisis of the earth system and the crisis of humanity are one.

If we don’t know our enemy 

To put an end to that double deformation, we must put an end to capitalism. To do that, we must know the enemy: capital. We will never defeat that enemy if we do not understand it–its effects, its strengths and weaknesses. If, for example, we don’t know capital as our enemy, then crises within capitalism due to overaccumulation of capital or the destruction of the environment will be viewed as crises of the “economy” or of industrialization, calling for us all to sacrifice.

The nature of capital comes to the surface many times. In recurring capitalist crises, for example, it is obvious that profits–rather than the needs of people as socially developed human beings–determine the nature and extent of production within capitalism. However, there’s nothing at all about a crisis that necessarily leads people to question the system itself. People may struggle against specific aspects of capitalism: they may struggle over the workday, the level of wages and working conditions, against the unemployment brought about by a crisis of overaccumulation, over capital’s destruction of the environment, over capital’s destruction of national cultures and sovereignty, against neo-liberalism, etc. But unless they understand the nature of the system, they are struggling merely for a nicer capitalism, a capitalism with a human face. If we don’t understand the nature of capital, then every attempt to make life better will ultimately end up being what Marx called “a guerrilla war against the effects of the existing system”.

Indeed, so long as workers do not see capital as their own product and continue instead to think of the need for healthy capitalists as common sense (and in their own interest), they will hold back from actions that place capital in crisis. Even if we are successful in struggling to gain control of the state, even if we manage to take government away from capital, we’ll continue to think of capital as necessary if we don’t understand it.

For this reason, faced with threats by capital, we will always give in rather than move in. That is the sad history of social democracy. While it presents itself as proceeding from a logic in which the needs and potentialities of human beings take priority over the needs of capital, social democracy always ends up by reinforcing the logic of capital. It does because it does not know the enemy.

Knowing your enemy, though, is no guarantee that you will be prepared to go beyond capital.

Know yourself

Consider this picture of you. It’s a picture of you against the world. You are separated from everyone else, and you are all that matters. You’ll lie, cheat and steal as long as you can do that without being caught.

Do you recognize yourself? Certainly, it’s the you that capital constantly tries to produce–the separated, atomistic, selfish maximizer. It’s the way the economic theorists of capital picture you as well

But that’s not really you (or, at least, all of you). Something stops you from always lying, cheating and stealing even if you can get away with it. It’s not fair. Not fair to other people. You don’t do that to members of your family. And you don’t do that to your neighbors because you have to live with them. In fact, if they need your help, you will gladly help them because some day you may need their help. And if there is a threat (like floods, fire, predators) to the neighborhood, you’ll join with them because you know that people need each other.

It’s the same at work. You enjoy seeing and joking with the people you work with. And you know that if you are facing the same problems, such as low wages and horrible working conditions (no time for bathroom breaks, etc.), you’re not going to solve them by yourself. In fact, when you join together to fight for what is fair, you feel strong. That is why capital is always trying to divide you. It doesn’t want to face workers who are strong. And it’s not only in the workplace. Capital wants to be able to continue to produce profits without fear that people will organize against the pollution and destruction of the earth it generates. It wants you separate, prepared to turn away if you’re not yourself directly affected, and that, even if you are affected, you won’t act. Why? Because you feel that you are too weak by yourself to fight.

Capital counts on you deciding that there’s nothing you can do. It takes your lack of action as proof that you really are what it wants: a separated, selfish maximizer. But it’s not that you are acting selfishly; rather, it’s because you lack confidence that others will join with you to do what is right. Holding you back is not that you are separate but that you are afraid that you will be alone.

There’s a saying, “You can’t fight City Hall”. You may also think you can’t fight capital and the capitalist state. It’s true–you can’t fight them and win if you are alone. But you can fight and win if you are not alone. The Prisoner’s Dilemma is only a dilemma if the prisoners are kept separate. When you join together with other people, it’s quite different.

Something important happens when you struggle along with others. You win sometimes, and you learn the importance of uniting. But it’s not only that your prospect for victory improves. You also change. You begin the process of shedding those sides of yourself that capital has produced. You are changing your social relations: in place of separation, there is solidarity. You know yourself as part of a community and you come to recognize others as part of that community too.

You change in another way in the process. You develop new capacities. It’s what Marx called “revolutionary practice”–the simultaneous changing of circumstances and human activity or self-change. And, that process of increasing your capacity through practice is not limited to any specific sphere. When you change, the changed you can enter into new spheres of struggle. Whether you struggle collectively against exploitation in the workplace, against racism, against sexism and patriarchy, against all the divisions among people that capital fosters, against inequality and injustice, against the deformation of Nature both locally and globally, you remake yourself in the process (in Marx’s words) to be someone fit to build a new world. Through your protagonism, you come to know yourselves as the person you want to be.

You learn to recognize the importance of community and solidarity. That’s part of the “secret” capital doesn’t want you to know. That concept of community is always there; it’s why you think about what is fair. It’s why you are bothered by injustice, why you enjoy cooperating and take pleasure in helping others. Fully developed, the system of communality is one, Marx proposed, where “instead of a division of labour… there would take place an organization of labor”; one where “working with means of production held in common”, the activities undertaken by associated producers are “determined by communal needs and purposes”. In short, production for social needs, organized by associated producers, and based upon social ownership of the means of production (three sides of what Hugo Chávez called “the elementary triangle of socialism”) correspond to the developed system of community.

This goal of communality is, we understand, largely subordinated by capitalism with its emphasis upon individual self-interest. Nevertheless, you may begin to get glimpses of community in the process of collective struggle. There are many possibilities, for example, within municipalities and cities: struggles for tenant rights, free public transit, support for public and co-op housing, increasing city-wide minimum wages, initiating community gardens, climate action at the neighborhood and community level, immigrant support, and opposition to racial profiling and police oppression, all have the potential for people to develop our capacities and a sense of our strength.

By learning to work together, we strip off (in Marx’s words) the “fetters” of our individuality. We begin to envision the possibility of a better society, one in which people can develop all their potential. The possibility of a society (in the words of the Communist Manifesto) where the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all–a society based upon solidarity and community.

That won’t happen overnight. Building the new human being is a process, and it takes more than good ideas. To develop that potential, practice can make those ideas real. Institutions based upon democratic, participatory and protagonistic practice and solidarity are an important part of that process. Neighborhood government, communal councils, workers councils and cooperative forms of production are examples of what Chávez called “the cells” of a new socialist state, where you change both circumstances and yourselves.

Local institutions by their very nature, of course, do not directly address problems at regional, national and international levels. However, local activity is the form that allows for the combination of nationwide struggles with the process of building capacities. Thus, struggles to end capitalist ownership of particular sectors or to end the destruction of the environment, for examples, are strengthened by being rooted in local organization that simultaneously builds a basis for further advances. In the process, you develop further, too, by knowing yourself as part of a larger community.

Know your enemy and know yourselves 

If we don’t know ourselves, we are disarmed: we will never grasp our collective strength nor the possibility of a better world, that of community. If we know ourselves but not capital, we will not understand why capitalism seems like common sense and we will at best create barriers to capital that it transcends and grows beyond. In both cases, it will appear that capitalism is “guaranteed in perpetuity”. In both cases, we will be unable to take advantage of capital’s inevitable crises and, most significantly, will not prevent the ultimate crisis of the earth system.

To know capital is to understand its strengths and the effects of its activity. To know ourselves is to know our strengths and the effects of our activity. To know both is to recognize the necessity for taking the state away from capital and to build the new state from below through which we develop our capacity. We need, in short, to learn to walk on two legs to transform the state from one over and above us into one that Marx called for, “the self-government of the producers”.

But we will never learn this spontaneously. Rather than discovering all secrets overnight, knowing our enemy and ourselves is a process. Understanding the links between all struggles, too, is an important part of that process. Given the mystification of capital and the divisions that capital has fostered, it’s important to have a body of people who can teach and guide us (while learning from us at the same time). It means that we need to think seriously about building a political instrument that can help us all to learn to walk on two legs, to help us to know the enemy and ourselves. Once we do, as Sun Tzu taught, we will win every battle and the war. In place of capitalism, we will build community.

Note:

[1] Citations and extended arguments may be found in Michael A. Lebowitz, Between Capitalism and Community (New York: Monthly Review Press, 2020). The concept of “The Double Deformation” is developed explicitly here.

Racism and the Logic of Capitalism: A Fanonion Reconsideration

By Peter Hudis

Originally published at Historical Materialism.

The emergence of a new generation of anti-racist activists and thinkers battling police abuse, the prison-industrial complex and entrenched racism in the US, alongside the crisis over immigration and growth of right-wing populism in Europe and elsewhere, makes this a crucial moment to develop theoretical perspectives that conceptualise race and racism as integral to capitalism while going beyond identity politics that treat such issues primarily in cultural and discursive terms. The last several decades have produced a slew of important studies by Marxists of the logic of capital as well as numerous explorations by postcolonial theorists of the narratives that structure racial and ethnic discrimination. Far too often, however, these two currents have assumed different or even opposed trajectories, making it all the harder to transcend one-sided class-reductionist analyses and equally one-sided affirmations of identity that bypass or ignore class. In light of the new reality produced by the deepening crisis of neoliberalism and the looming disintegration of the political order that has defined global capitalism since the end of the Cold War, the time has come to revisit theoretical approaches that can help delineate the integrality of race, class and capitalism.

Few thinkers are more important in this regard than Frantz Fanon, widely considered one of the most creative thinkers on race, racism and national consciousness of the twentieth century. Fanon’s effort to ‘slightly stretch’ (as he put it) ‘the Marxian analysis … when it comes to addressing the colonial issue’[1] represented an important attempt to work out the dialectic of race and class through a coherent theoretical framework that does not dissolve one into the other. This may help explain the resurgence of interest in his work that is now underway. At least five new books on Fanon have appeared in English over the past two years[2] – in addition to a new 600-page collection in French of his previously-unpublished or unavailable writings on psychiatry, politics and literature.[3] Although Fanon has remained a commanding presence for decades, the extent of this veritable renaissance of interest in his thought is striking. It is no less reflected in the many times his words have appeared on posters, flyers and social media over the past year by those protesting police abuse, the criminal-injustice system, and racism on and off college campuses.[4]

These ongoing rediscoveries of Fanon’s work mark a radical departure from the tenor of debates among postcolonial theorists over the past several decades – when the prevailing issue seemed to be whether or not he was a ‘premature poststructuralist’.[5] If one were to limit oneself to such academic discussions, one might come away thinking that the validity of Fanon’s body of work rests on the extent to which he succeeded in deconstructing the unity of the colonial subject in the name of alterity and difference.[6] Yet these approaches – some of which went so far as to sanction even the discussion of capitalism or its unitary logic as representing a capitulation to epistemic imperialism – could not be further from what drives the renewal of interest in Fanon’s legacy today.[7]

What makes Fanon’s work especially cogent is that contemporary capitalism is manifesting some of the most egregious expressions of racial animosity that we have seen in decades. One need only note the attacks on immigrants of colour in the US and Europe, the revival of right-wing populism, and most of all, the ascendancy of Donald Trump to the US presidency. This raises the question of why there is such a resurgence of racial animus at this point in time. At least part of the answer is the work of groups like Black Lives Matter, Black Youth Project 100 and many others, which, in engaging politics from a ‘black-feminist-queer lens’, has put the spotlight on issues of race in as creative a manner as the Occupy movement did for economic inequality.[8] In reaction, a section of bourgeois society has decided to drop the mask of civility and openly reassert the prerogatives of white male domination. ‘Whitelash’ is in the driver’s seat – and not only in the US. This should come as no surprise, since the forces of the old always rear their heads when a new challenge to their dominance begins to emerge.

Not unconnected to this is the growth of reactionary challenges to neoliberalism. This calls for a serious reorganisation of thought, since many have focused so much attention on critiquing neoliberalism that they have had rather little to say about the logic of capital as a whole. It is often overlooked that neoliberalism is but one strategy employed by capitalism at a particular point in time – as was Keynesianism at an earlier point. And just as Keynesianism was jettisoned when it no longer served its purpose, the same may be true of neoliberalism today. What brought down the Keynesian project was the crisis in profitability faced by global capital in the 1970s. Capitalists responded by embracing the neoliberal stratagem as a means to restore profitability. This made perfect sense from their point of view, since it is profitability – not effective demand – that in the final analysis determines the course of the development of capitalist society.[9] Profit-rates did go up from the early 1980s to 2000 as the forces of global competition, free trade, and privatisation were unleashed, but most of these gains were in real estate and finance – whereas manufacturing profitability remained at historically low levels. And since much of the profit from real estate and financialisation has not been invested in the real economy, there has been a decline in recent decades in the rate of growth in the productivity of labour.[10] This at least partly explains the anaemic rate of growth in today’s world economy, which is causing so much distress – not only among those most negatively impacted by it, but also to sections of the ruling class that increasingly recognise that the neoliberal ‘miracle’ has proven to be something of a mirage.

In many respects, this established the ground for Trump. His electoral victory (pyrrhic as it may well turn out to be) is a sign that a significant section of the Right has found a way to speak to disaffected segments of the working class by draping criticism of neoliberalism in racist and misogynist terms – while ensuring that capitalism goes unquestioned. Hence, opposition to such tendencies must begin and end with a firm and uncompromising rejection of any programme, tendency or initiative that in any way, shape or form is part of, or dovetails – no matter how indirectly – with racist and/or anti-immigrant sentiment. Any other approach will make it harder to distinguish a genuine critique of class inequality, free trade, and globalisation from reactionary ones.

For this reason, holding to the critique of neoliberalism as the crux of anti-capitalist opposition no longer makes much sense. Needed instead is an explicit attack on the inner core of capitalism – its logic of accumulation and alienation that is inextricably tied to augmenting value as an end in itself. And racism has long been integral to capital’s drive for self-expansion.

Capitalism first emerged as a world system through the anti-black racism generated by the transatlantic slave trade, and it has depended on racism to ensure its perpetration and reproduction ever since.[11] Marx argued,

Slavery is an economic category like any other … Needless to say we are dealing only with direct slavery, with Negro slavery in Surinam, in Brazil, in the Southern States of North America. Direct slavery is just as much the pivot of bourgeois industry as machinery, credits, etc. Without slavery you have no cotton; without cotton you have no modern industry. It is slavery that gave the colonies their value; it is the colonies that created world trade, and it is world trade that is the precondition of large-scale industry. Thus slavery is an economic category of the greatest importance.[12]

Marx was clearly cognisant of the peculiar role played by race in American slavery – and he was no less aware of how integral race-based slavery was to capitalism’s origins and development as a world system. But does this mean that racism is integral to the logic of capital? Might racism be a mere exogenous factor that is only built into specific moments of capitalism’s contingent history? To be sure, it is possible to conceive of the possibility that capitalism could have emerged and developed as a world system without its utilising race and racism. But historical materialism does not concern itself with what could have occurred, but with what did occur and continues to occur. According to Marx, without race-based slavery ‘you have no modern industry’ and no ‘world trade’ – and no modern capitalism. Hence, the logic of capital is in many respects inseparable from its historical development. I am referring not only to the factors that led to the formation of the world market but to the role played by race and racism in impeding proletarian class consciousness, which has functioned as an essential component in enabling capital accumulation to be actualised. Marx was keenly aware of this, as seen in his writings on the US Civil War and the impact of anti-Irish prejudice upon the English workers’ movement.[13] He took the trouble to address these issues in Capital itself, which famously declared ‘labour in a white skin cannot emancipate itself where it is branded in a black skin.’[14]

Racism is not and never has been an epiphenomenal characteristic of capitalism. It is integral to its very development. The time is therefore long past for holding onto such notions as ‘there is no race question outside the class question’[15] or ‘the race issue, while important, is secondary to class’. Since capitalism was shaped, from its inception, by racial factors, it is not possible to effectively oppose it without making the struggle against racism a priority. And for this very reason, the present situation also makes it increasingly anachronistic to hold onto forms of identity politics that elide issues of class and a critique of capital. The effort to elevate ethnic identity and solidarity at the expense of a direct confrontation with capitalism is inherently self-defeating, since the latter is responsible for the perpetration of racism and the marginalisation of peoples of colour in the first place. Since race and racism help create, reproduce and reinforce an array of hierarchies that are rooted in class domination, subjective affirmations of identity that are divorced from directly challenging capital will inevitably lose their critical edge and impact over the course of time.

Class struggle and anti-racist struggle have a common aim – at least from a Fanonian perspective. It is to overcome the alienation and dehumanisation that define modern society by creating new human relations – termed by Fanon a ‘new humanism’.[16] But the path to that lofty goal is not one of rushing to the absolute like a shot out of the pistol. It can be reached only through ‘the seriousness, the suffering, the patience, and the labor of the negative’.[17] Re-engaging Fanon on this level can speak to us in new ways.

II.

Fanon repeatedly emphasises that anti-Black racism is not natural but is rooted in the economic imperatives of capitalism – beginning with the transatlantic slave trade and extending to the neo-colonialism of today. As he writes in Black Skin, White Masks, ‘First, economic. Then, internalization or rather epidermalization of his inferiority.’[18] At the same time, he held that racism cannot be combatted on economic or class-terms alone, since racialised ways of ‘seeing’ and being take on a life of their own and drastically impact the psychic, inner-life of the individual. Both the black and the white subject are impacted and shaped by class domination, but they experience it in radically different ways. Any effort to ignore or downplay these crucial differences for the sake of a fictive ‘unity’ that abstracts from them is bound to fall on deaf ears when it comes to a significant portion of the dispossessed. On these grounds, Fanon insisted that both sides – the economic and the cultural/psychic – have to be fought in tandem. As he put it, ‘The black man must wage the struggle on two levels: whereas historically these levels are mutually dependent, any unilateral liberation is flawed, and the worst mistake would be to believe their mutual dependence automatic … An answer must be found on the objective as well as the subjective level.’[19]

For Fanon, what makes racism especially deadly is that it denies recognition of the dignity and humanity of the colonised subject. As a result, the latter experiences a ‘zone of nonbeing’ – a negation of their very humanity. He calls this ‘an extraordinary sterile and arid region, an incline stripped bare of every essential form from which a genuine new departure can emerge.’[20] It is a zone of depravity that renders implausible any ‘ontology of Blackness’. The black is not seen as human precisely by being ‘seen’ – not once, but repeatedly – as black. The colonial mind does not ‘see’ what it thinks it sees; it fixes its gaze not on the actual person but on a reified image that obscures them. For the coloniser, the black is indeed nothing. However, this zone of non-being in no way succeeds in erasing the humanity of the oppressed. The denial of the subject’s subjectivity can never be completely consummated. This is because, as Fanon never ceases to remind us, ‘Man is a “yes” resonating from cosmic harmonies.’[21]

On this issue, there are striking parallels between Fanon’s works and Marx’s – even if it is rarely acknowledged. In the first essay in which he proclaimed the proletariat as the revolutionary class, Marx defined it as ‘the class in Civil Society that is not of Civil Society’.[22] The proletariat lives in civil society, but unlike the bourgeoisie its substantiality is not confirmed in it. Since workers are robbed of any organic connection to the means of production in their being reduced to a mere seller of labour-power, they find themselves alienated from the substance of civil society. This is because what matters to capital is not the subjectivity of the living labourers but rather their ability to augment wealth in abstract, monetary terms. There is only one ‘self-sufficient end’ in capitalism – and that is the augmentation of (abstract) value at the expense of the labourer. Insofar as the worker’s subjectivity becomes completely subsumed by the dictates of value production, the worker inhabits a zone of negativity. He is dehumanised is insofar as his ‘activity [is] not his spontaneous activity. It belongs to another; it is the loss of his self.’[23] Self-estrangement is therefore integral to the domination of capital. This makes for a living hell, but it is also what makes the proletariat potentially revolutionary, since it has nothing to lose but its chains. But what does it have to gain? The answer is communism, defined by Marx as ‘the positive transcendence of human self-estrangement … the complete return of man to himself as a social (i.e., human) being – a return accomplished consciously and embracing the entire wealth of previous development.’ Since capitalism dehumanises the labourer, the alternative to capitalism is nothing less than a new humanism: ‘This communism, as fully developed naturalism, equals humanism, and as fully developed humanism equals naturalism.’[24]

This is a far cry from any classless, abstract humanism, since for Marx only the proletariat ‘has the consistency, the severity, the courage or the ruthlessness that could mark it out as the negative representative of society.’ It alone possesses ‘the genius that inspires material might to political violence, or that revolutionary audacity which flings at the adversary the defiant words: “I am nothing and I should be everything.”’[25]

But how could everything arise from nothing? It is only possible if it is not labour that takes the form of a commodity but rather the capacity for labour – labour-power. As Luca Basso puts it, ‘the capitalist buys something that only exists as a possibility, which is, however, inseparable from the living personality of the Arbeiter.’[26] If labour were the commodity, the worker’s subjectivity would be completely absorbed by the value-form and any internal resistance to it would be implausible. Marx’s entire critique of value production – rooted in the contradiction between concrete and abstract labour – proceeds from recognition of the irreducible tension between the subject and the continuous effort to subsume its subjectivity by abstract forms of domination. Here is where the so-called ‘esoteric’ and ‘exoteric’ converge in Marx’s work.

There is more than an echo of this in Fanon’s declaration in Black Skin, White Masks that, ‘Genuine disalienation will have been achieved only when things, in the most materialist sense, have resumed their rightful place.’[27] But Fanon also points to a key difference between racial and class oppression, in that the former cuts deeper than the traditional class struggle insofar as people of colour are denied even a modicum of recognition when structures of domination are over-determined by racial considerations.

Fanon’s insights on this issue are most profoundly posed in his discussion of Hegel’s master/slave dialectic in Black Skin, White Masks. Hegel maintains that the master wants to be recognised by the slave, for without it he is unable to obtain a sense of self-certainty and selfhood. Hegel acknowledges, of course, that what the master mainly wants from the slave is work. Yet the master still aspires to be recognised by his subordinates, since he, like all human beings, wants to obtain a substantive sense of self – and that is something that can only be provided by the gaze of the other. So what happens when the master/slave dialectic is structured along racial lines – something that Hegel does not consider? Fanon argues that the situation becomes radically altered. The master is no longer interested in being recognised by the slave, just as the slave is no longer interested in recognising him. This is because when the master is white he does not see the black as even potentially human.[28] Like all masters, he wants work from his slave; but when race enters the picture, that is all he wants – he denies the slave even the most primordial degree of recognition.

To be sure, matters are hardly pristine when race does not inform the class relation. The capitalist ‘cares’ about the worker only to the extent that she provides work – and if the latter can be attained without her, the capitalist will gladly lay her off and employ a machine. However, the capitalist knows that a worker, like any human being, cannot be worked to the point of extinction – otherwise there is no source of profit. And as much as the worker detests the capitalist, she knows that she may well be out of a job if the capitalist is unable to earn any profit. The two antagonists recognise each other’s existence, even as they battle against each another. But when class relations are structured along racial lines even the most basic level of recognition is blocked, since when the other is seen as black it is not ‘seen’ at all.

Since consciousness of self and identity-formation depend on recognition by the other, its absence produces an existential crisis. In Hegel’s text, the slave obtains ‘a mind of his own’;[29] but when the slave is black the lack of recognition blocks the formation of an independent self-consciousness. The general class struggle does not lead immediately to consciousness of self when the slave is black. Instead, the slave aspires for ‘values secreted by the masters’.[30] Denied recognition, but hungering for it all the same, the slave tries to mimic the white. She has an inferiority complex. But her efforts are futile, since no recognition will be forthcoming so long as the class relation is configured along racial lines. This is a veritable hell, since her very consciousness is dependent on the will of the master. We have reached a level of reification of consciousness that would startle even Lukács. There seems to be no way out if the master totally dominates the very mind of the oppressed. So what is to be done? The black slave must turn away from the master and face her own kind. She makes use of the socially constructed attributes of race to forge bonds of solidarity with others like her. Only then does the master’s dominance begin to be seriously challenged. Through social solidarity born from taking pride in the very attributes that are denigrated by existing society, she gains ‘a mind of one’s own’.

However, as Hegel notes at the conclusion of the master/slave dialectic, the slave’s independent self-consciousness does not overcome the diremption between subjective and objective. The achievement of subjective self-certainty brings to view the enormity of an objective world that it has not yet mastered. Hegel says that unless the subject confronts objectivity and overcomes this diremption, ‘a mind of one’s own’ turns out to be ‘little more than a piece of cleverness’.[31] Fanon’s argument in Black Skin, White Masks follows a similar trajectory. Fanon views Negritude – at least initially – as the pathway by which the black subject affirms pride in themselves as part of reclaiming their dignity. However, Fanon is wary of aspects of Negritude in Black Skin, White Masks, since it tends to essentialise the racial characteristics forged by colonial domination. This is evident in Senghor’s statement that ‘emotion is Negro as reason is Greek’[32] – which, as Lewis Gordon has shown, is actually a phrase from Gobineau![33] Negritude runs the risk of becoming so enamoured of its independent consciousness that it turns away from confronting the social realities of the objective world. Identity-formation is a vital moment of the dialectic that cannot be subsumed or skipped over, but it also carries within itself the possibility of becoming fixated on its subjective self-certainty.

The struggle against racism is therefore not reducible to the class struggle; nor is it a mere ancillary or ally of it. The class relation is fundamentally reconfigured once it presents itself through the ‘mask’ of race. Like any good Hegelian, Fanon points to the positive in the negative of this two-fold alienation in which class and racial oppression overlap. Thrown into a ‘zone of non-being’, yet retaining their basic humanity, the colonised are compelled to ask what does it mean to be human in the very course of the struggle. To be sure, they do so by taking pride in the racial attributes created by a racist society. But since it is society, and not nature or ‘being’ that creates these attributes, the subject can cast them off once it obtains the recognition it is striving for. However, this result is by no means predetermined. There is always a risk that the subject will treat socially constructed attributes as ontological verities. Fixation is a serious risk. It is easy to get trapped in the particular, but there is no way to the universal without it.

The nuances of this position are addressed in a striking manner in Fanon’s critique of Sartre’s view of Negritude. Although Sartre praised Negritude in Black Orpheus, he referred to it as a ‘weak stage’ of the dialectic that must give way to the ‘concrete’ and ‘universal’ fight of the proletariat. Fanon is extremely dismayed by Sartre’s position, stating, ‘The generation of young Black poets has just been dealt a fatal blow.’[34] Fanon rejects the claim that racial pride is a mere way station on the road to confronting the ‘real’ issue – proletarian revolution. He credits Sartre for ‘recalling the negative side’ of the Black predicament, ‘but he forgot that this negativity draws its value from a virtually substantial absoluity’.[35] As against Sartre’s effort to relativise the moment of black consciousness, Fanon contends, ‘this born Hegelian, had forgotten that consciousness needs to get lost in the night of the absolute.’[36] Claims to liberation cannot find their voice if they are treated as arbitrary; they must present themselves in absolute terms (‘I am nothing and I should be everything!’). But since the black subject inhabits a ‘zone of non-being’, its absolute is imbued with negativity. Hence, consciousness of self in this context contains the potential to reach out beyond itself, toward universal human emancipation.

It is not just that negativity is the font from which the individual is impelled toward the positive. It is that upon being subjected to absolute denial and lack of recognition, the individual finds it necessary to draw upon the substantial reservoir of hidden meaning that it possess as a human subject. ‘That which has been shattered is rebuilt and constructed by the intuitive lianas of my hands.’[37]

Sartre’s problem was not in viewing Negritude as a particular, but in rushing too fast to get past it. By the time he writes The Wretched of the Earth, Fanon is long past it as well. But he does not leap there like a shot out of a pistol. He endures the labour of the negative – by dwelling on the specific ways in which the colonised subject can make its subjectivity known in a world that has become totally indifferent to it. Fanon never takes his eyes off the creation of the positive from out of the negative, of absolute positivity from out of absolute negation, of a new humanism from out of total dehumanisation. As Alice Cherki has noted, he was an incurable humanist.[38]

Given the aborted and unfinished revolutions of his time and since, Fanon’s insistence on neither getting stuck in the particular – that is, pride in one’s race and ethnicity (the mark of identity politics) – nor skipping over it in the name of affirming an abstract, colour-blind advocacy of ‘proletarian revolution’, takes on new significance. Hubert Harrison’s conception (voiced in the 1920s) that struggles of African-Americans against racism represent the ‘touchstone’ of American society[39] – later re-cast in Raya Dunayevskaya’s Marxist-Humanist conception of Black masses as the vanguard of US freedom struggles[40] – reflects a similar understanding of the relation of race and class to that which we find within Fanon’s lifelong effort to grasp their dialectical interconnection.

In some respects, the debate between Fanon and Sartre is being replayed today, as seen in the impatience of some on the left who urge anti-racist activists to ‘get to the real issue’ – as if that were the state of the economy. This is not to deny that the economy is of central importance. But so is the psychic impact of racism and discrimination upon the inner-life of the individual. It is only by approaching those struggling for freedom from the particular nexus-point that defines their lived experience as potentially revolutionary subjects that we can work out the difficult question of how to surmount the matrix of contradictions that define modern capitalism. Just as there is no road to the universal that gets stuck in the particular, there is no reaching-it that rushes over the particular.

III.

The fullest expression of these insights is found in The Wretched of the Earth, whose focus is the actual dialectics of revolution – the struggle for national culture and independence against colonialism. One of its central themes is the ‘Manichean divide’ that defines the colonial experience. So great is this divide between coloniser and colonised that Fanon speaks of them as if they were two ‘species’. It would appear that the racial divide is decisive, replacing class dominance as the deciding factor. For some commentators, Fanon’s discussion of the Manichean divide indicates that he has rejected or supplanted the Marxian view of class.[41] However, the appearance is deceptive. First, Fanon is not endorsing this divide; he is describing it. Second, he does not pose this divide as stable or impermeable. As the revolutionary struggle progresses, he shows, it begins to fall apart. He writes,

The people then realize that national independence brings to light multiple realities that in some cases are divergent and conflicting … it leads the people to replace an overall undifferentiated nationalism with social and economic consciousness. The people who in the early days of the struggle had adopted the primitive Manicheanism of the colonizer – Black versus White, Arab versus Infidel – realize en route that some blacks can be whiter than the whites … The species is splitting up before their very eyes … Some members of the colonialist population prove to be closer, infinitely closer, to the nationalist struggle than certain native sons. The racial and racist dimension is transcended on both sides.[42]

We see here how the struggle for national liberation unites the people and breaks apart the racial dichotomies that define colonialism, thereby pointing the way to the death of race and racialism as socially defining features.

Clearly, Fanon does not set aside class relations in his critique of colonialism. James Yaki Sayles, a New Afrikan political prisoner who spent 33 years in a maximum-security prison and wrote what I consider to be one of the most profound studies of The Wretched of the Earth, put it this way: ‘The existence of Manichean thinking doesn’t make economic relationships secondary to “racial” ones – it does exactly what it’s supposed to do: It masks and mystifies the economic relationships … but doesn’t undermine their primacy.’[43] He adds, ‘When Fanon talks about the “species” breaking up before our eyes … he’s talking about the breakup of “races” themselves – the “races” which were constructed as part of the construction of world capitalism, and which must first be deconstructed along with the deconstruction of capitalism.’[44]

Does this mean that Fanon adopts Sartre’s position in Black Orpheus that class is primary and race a ‘minor term’ by the time of writing The Wretched of the Earth?[45] That may seem to be the case, since racial identity is not its guiding or central theme; it is instead the struggle for national liberation and the need to transcend its confines. Yet this is precisely what undermines any claim that he has changed the position outlined in Black Skin, White Masks. In it Fanon also connects racism to class relations by pointing to the economic factors that drive its social construction. And in that work he also poses the deconstruction of race as the essential precondition of a new humanism. As he so poignantly put it, ‘Because it is a systematic negation of the other person, and a furious determination to deny the other person all attributes of humanity, colonialism forces the people it dominates to ask themselves the question constantly: “In reality, who am I?”’[46]

Most important, Fanon held that while race is a product of class relations, which serves as their mask, it is not a secondary factor. While race reflects class formations, the reflection is not a one-way mirror image. The reflection is taken up in consciousness and performs a sort of doubling by mirroring its origin at the same time as reshaping it. Determinations of reflection are not passive but actively reconstructive. And since racial determinations are often not superstructural but integral to the logic of capital accumulation, efforts by people of colour to challenge them can serve as the catalyst for targeting and challenging class relations.

Whereas racial identity is the major focus in Black Skin, White Masks, national identity takes centre stage in The Wretched of the Earth. But the structure of Fanon’s argument remains very much the same. In both works, the path to the universal – a world of mutual recognitions – proceeds through the particular struggles of those battling racial, ethnic or national discrimination. This separates Fanon’s new humanism from an abstract humanism that skips over the lived experience of actual subjects of revolt.

As Fanon sees it, this humanism can emerge only if the colonial revolutions transcend the bourgeois phase of development. He writes, ‘The theoretical question, which has been posed for the last 50 years when addressing the history of the underdeveloped countries, i.e., whether the bourgeois phase can be effectively skipped, must be resolved through revolutionary action and not through reasoning.’[47] Fanon is directly referring to the debates in the Second International prior to World War I and the congresses of the Third International in the early 1920s as to whether revolutions in technologically underdeveloped societies must endure the vicissitudes of a prolonged stage of capitalism. Building on the work of previous Marxists,[48] he emphatically rejects the two-stage theory of revolution, arguing, ‘In the underdeveloped countries a bourgeois phase is out of the question. A police dictatorship or a caste of profiteers may very well be the case but a bourgeois society is doomed to failure.’[49] This advocacy of permanent revolution was a very radical position. It was not put forth by any of the political tendencies leading the African revolutions, Algeria included. Even Kwame Nkrumah and Sékou Touré refrained from such wholesome condemnations of the national bourgeoisie. Fanon was nevertheless insistent on this point in prophetically arguing that if they did not ‘skip’ the phase of bourgeois nationalism, the African revolutions would revert to intra-state conflict, tribalism and religious fundamentalism.

How, then, did he envision bypassing the capitalist stage? Central to this was his view of the peasantry. The peasants tend to be neglected by the national bourgeoisie, which is based in the cities. They constitute the majority of the populace, vastly outnumbering the working class and petty-bourgeoisie. Although they are not included in the agenda of the nationalist parties, they turn out to be the most revolutionary. Fanon insists, ‘But it is obvious that in the colonial countries only the peasantry is revolutionary.’[50] This is surely an exaggeration, which does not take into account the pivotal role of the Nigerian labour movement in the struggle for national independence, let alone the situation in countries like South Africa (where the labour movement later proved instrumental in forcing the elimination of apartheid). Although Fanon is painting with all-too-broad a brush, his view of the peasantry is not without merit. He argued that since most of the newly independent states in Africa had not undergone industrialisation on a large scale, the working class could not present itself as a cohesive and compact force. It has not been socialised by the concentration and centralisation of capital. The working class is dispersed, divided and relatively weak. The peasantry, on the other hand, is socialised and relatively strong precisely because it has been largely untouched by capitalist development. Their communal traditions and social formations remain intact. They think and act like a cohesive group. They live the Manichaean divide that separates them from the coloniser. Hence, the message of the revolution ‘always finds a response among them’.[51] They are therefore unlikely to put their guns away and enable the bourgeoisie to lord over them.

This issue of permanent revolution is also the context for understanding Fanon’s view of revolutionary violence. He did not subscribe (contra Arendt and others) to any ‘metaphysics of violence’. His advocacy of violence was historically specific. He argued that a people armed would not only be better equipped to evict the colonialists; most importantly, it is needed to help push the revolution beyond the boundaries set by the national bourgeoisie after the achievement of independence. It is no accident that one of the first demands of the leaders of the newly independent states was for the masses to give up their arms – the presence of which could impede their embrace of neocolonialism. Fanon also emphasised the need for a decentralised as against a centralised political and economic apparatus that could succeed in directly drawing the masses into running the affairs of society – including the most downtrodden among them, like the peasantry. He warned against adopting the model of statist Five-Year Plans and advocated support for cooperatives and other autonomous ventures. No less significantly, he argued strenuously against a single-party state on the grounds that, ‘The single party is the modern form of the bourgeois dictatorship – stripped of mask, makeup, and scruples, cynical in every respect.’[52] He conceived of parties in terms of ‘an organism through which the people exercise their authority and express their will’ and not as a hierarchical, stratified force standing above them. Most importantly, he emphasised the critical role of consciousness and revolutionary education in providing the most indispensable condition of socialist transformation – overcoming the depersonalisation of the colonised subject. He wrote,

It is commonly thought with criminal flippancy that to politicize the masses means from time to time haranguing them with a major political speech … But political education means opening up the mind, awakening the mind, and introducing it to the world. It is, as Césaire said, ‘To invent the souls of men.’[53]

Needless to say, Fanon’s strictures were not followed by the leaders of the national independence struggles, who found a comfortable place for themselves within the framework of the bourgeois phase of development – even when (indeed especially when!) they anointed their rule as some form of ‘socialism’. But were there  the material conditions present at that time which could have enabled the African revolutions to bypass the bourgeois phase? I am not referring solely to conditions of economic backwardness or underdevelopment, since these would not be decisive barriers if the newly independent nations were in the position to receive aid and support from the workers of the technologically developed world. Marx, after all, held at the end of his life that economically backward Russia could bypass a capitalist stage of development if a revolution centred on the peasantry linked up with proletarian revolutions in the West.[54] Yet in the context of the African revolutions of the 1950s and ’60s, such aid could not be expected – in large measure because forces like the French Communist and Socialist parties disgracefully supported French imperialism’s war against the Algerian Revolution (something that major left-intellectuals inside and outside the French CP at the time, such as Althusser and Foucault, never managed to find time to condemn).

This problem consumed Fanon’s attention in the final years of his life, and marks one of the most controversial aspects of his legacy. In the face of the failure of the established French leftist parties to support Algeria’s struggle for independence (with which he became openly identified by 1955), he issued a series of sharp critiques of the working class for failing to fulfil its historic mission. He writes,

The generalized and sometimes truly bloody enthusiasm that has marked the participation of French workers and peasants in the war against the Algerian people has shaken to its foundations the myth of an effective opposition between the people and the government … The war in Algeria is being waged conscientiously by all Frenchmen and the few criticisms expressed up to the present time by a few individuals mention only certain methods which ‘are precipitating the loss of Algeria.’[55]

In a colonial country, it used to be said, there is a community of interests between the colonized people and the working class of the colonialist country. The history of the wars of liberation waged by the colonized peoples is the history of the non-verification of this thesis.[56]

These statements are often taken as proof that Fanon dismissed the revolutionary potential of the working class tout court. However, only a year later Fanon stated in another piece for El Moudjahid, ‘the dialectical strengthening that occurs between the movement of liberation of the colonized peoples and the emancipatory struggle of the exploited working class of the imperialist countries is sometimes neglected, and indeed forgotten.’[57] Might he have had himself in mind? He now considerably revises his earlier position, as he speaks of ‘the internal relation … that unites the oppressed peoples to the exploited masses of the colonialist countries’.[58] And as The Wretched of the Earth (written a few years later) clearly shows, he did not close the door to the possibility that the working class might fulfil its historic mission even while criticising it for not yet having done so:

The colossal task, which consists of reintroducing man into the world, man in his totality, will be achieved with the crucial help of the European masses who would do well to confess that they have rallied behind the position of our common masters on colonial issues. In order to do this, the European masses must first of all decide to wake up, put on their thinking caps and stop playing the irresponsible game of Sleeping Beauty.[59]

Nevertheless, the hoped-for aid from the workers of the industrially-developed West never arrived – notwithstanding the heroic efforts of numerous individuals in France and elsewhere who spoke out in favour of the independence of the African colonies. In lieu of any significant support from the industrially-developed West, how were the African Revolutions going to obtain the resources needed to sustain genuine independence, let alone move further towards the creation of a socialist society?

Fanon responded by turning his energies to Africa as a whole. This is reflected in his decision to become a roving ambassador for Algeria’s FLN, travelling to over a dozen countries pushing for an ‘African Legion’ to come to the aid of the Algerian struggle and revolutions elsewhere on the continent. It is also reflected in his effort to create a ‘southern front’ of the Algerian struggle by procuring a route for the shipment of arms and other materiel from Ghana, Guinea, Mali and Niger. Concerned that the French might strike a rotten compromise with the FLN to keep it within its neocolonial orbit, he was trying to radicalise both the Algerian and sub-Saharan struggles by cementing closer relations between them.

It may be true, as Adam Shatz has recently argued, that Fanon’s efforts were rather quixotic, since ‘the southern Sahara had never been an important combat zone for the FLN, and there was little trust between the Algerians and the desert tribes.’[60] However, this should not cause us to lose sight of his broader effort to convey the militancy of the Algerian struggle ‘to the four corners of Africa’ as part of rejecting any compromise with capitalism. As Fanon put it, the task is ‘To turn the absurd and the impossible inside out and hurl a continent against the last ramparts of colonial power.’[61] This was no mere rhetorical declaration, since he spent the last several years of his life working incessantly to coordinate activity between the various revolutionary movements in Africa. He forthrightly stated, ‘For nearly three years I have been trying to bring the misty idea of African unity out of the subjectivist bog of the majority of its supporters. African Unity is a principle on the basis of which it is proposed to achieve the United States of Africa without passing through the middle-class chauvinistic phase…’ In case there is any doubt about the provenance of this embrace of permanent revolution, he states on the same page: ‘We must once again come back to the Marxist formula. The triumphant middle classes are the most impetuous, the most enterprising, the most annexationist in the world.’[62]

For Fanon ‘it is no longer possible to advance by regions … [Africa] must advance in totality.’ The key to that, he held, was Congo – since ‘a unified Congo having at its head a militant anticolonialist [Patrice Lumumba] constituted a real danger for South Africa’.[63] For if South Africa, the most industrially-developed country in Africa, was brought into the orbit of revolution, the material conditions might be at hand to push the continent as a whole beyond the confines of capitalist development.

Despite their verbal commitment to Pan-Africanism, virtually all the leaders of the newly independent states – including the most radical among them – were more interested in gaining acceptance and aid from the major world powers than in promoting pan-African unity. Close as he was in many respects to Nkrumah, Fanon was embittered at Ghana’s failure to provide material aid to Lumumba in the Congo, and he grew increasingly embittered at the failure of the African Legion to get off the ground. It became clear that for the new leaders of independent Africa, the way forward was to ally with one or another pole of global capital – either the imperialist West or the so-called ‘communist’ East. Fanon was opposed to this approach.

It [is] commonly thought that the time has come for the world, and particularly for the Third World, to choose between the capitalist system and the socialist system. The underdeveloped countries … must, however, refuse to get involved in such rivalry. The Third World must not be content to define itself in relation to values that preceded it. On the contrary, the underdeveloped countries must endeavor to focus on their very own values as well as methods and style specific to them. The basic issue with which we are faced is not the unequivocal choice between socialism and capitalism such as they have been defined by men from different continents and different periods of time.[64]

Fanon was clearly not satisfied with existing ‘socialist’ societies ‘as they have been defined’. He was aware of their deficiencies. But this does not mean that he conducted a thorough analysis of them or acknowledged their class basis and thoroughly oppressive character. This is unfortunate, since it has led some followers of Fanon to whitewash their crimes, which has only fed into the general discrediting of the Left for supporting regimes which were as exploitative of their working class as imperialist ones. No less importantly, the lack of a thoroughgoing critique of ‘Soviet-type’ societies on Fanon’s part rendered his effort to conceive of the transcendence of the bourgeois phase somewhat abstract and even quixotic, since it was left unclear how technologically underdeveloped societies might skip the bourgeois phase if they could not depend on the beneficence of the purportedly ‘socialist’ regimes.

Fanon cannot be blamed for his rather inconclusive discussion of how to surmount the bourgeois phase of development in The Wretched of the Earth, since he was only beginning to explore the issue of permanent revolution and he passed from the scene only days after the book came off the press. However, we who today face the task of developing an alternative to all forms of capitalism – whether the ‘free market’ capitalism of the West or its state-capitalist variants – do not have that excuse. Fanon’s work may not provide the answer to the question, but it does provide resources that (in conjunction with the work of many others) can aid our effort to do so.

Today’s realities are of course far different than those that defined Fanon’s life and times – on an assortment of levels. But they also provide new possibilities for coming to grips with the problems he was addressing, especially at the end of his life. Fanon departed from the scene declaring, ‘Let us leave this Europe which never stops talking of man yet murders him at every one of its street corners, at every corner of the world.’[65] These words are hardly rendered obsolete by the fact that today many from the global South are trying to find their way into Europe, as is seen from the response of the European powers to an influx of refugees which is transforming the continent. It may turn out that the growing presence of the global South inside the global North provides a material basis for thinking out new pathways to the transcendence of neocolonialism and class society, just as the racist resurgence that has accompanied it gives new urgency to working out the dialectical relation of race, class and gender anew. Fanon’s work will live on so long as these problems continue to concern us.

References

Anderson, Kevin B. 2010, Marx at the Margins: On Nationalism, Ethnicity, and Non-Western Societies, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Basso, Luca 2015, Marx and the Common: From ‘Capital’ to the Late Writings, Historical Materialism Book Series, Leiden: Brill.

Bhabha, Homi K. 1999, ‘Remembering Fanon: Self, Psyche, and the Colonial Condition’, in Rethinking Fanon: The Continuing Dialogue, edited by Nigel Gibson, New York: Humanity Books.

Bird-Pollan, Stefan 2015, Hegel, Freud and Fanon: The Dialectic of Emancipation, Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

Cherki, Alice 2006, Frantz Fanon: A Portrait, translated by Nadia Benabid, Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press.

Coulthard, Glenn Sean 2014, Red Skin, White Masks: Rejecting the Colonial Politics of Recognition, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.

Cox, Oliver Cromwell 1948, Race, Caste and Class: A Study in Social Dynamics, New York: Doubleday.

Debs, Eugene V. 1903, ‘The Negro in the Class Struggle’, International Socialist Review, 4, 5: 257–60.

Dunayevskaya, Raya 2003, Philosophy and Revolution: From Hegel to Sartre, and from Marx to Mao, Lanham, MD: Lexington Books.

Fanon, Frantz 1967, Toward the African Revolution, translated by Haakon Chevalier, New York: Grove Press

Fanon, Frantz 2004, The Wretched of the Earth, translated by Richard Philcox, New York: Grove Press.

Fanon, Frantz 2008, Black Skin, White Masks, translated by Richard Philcox, New York: Grove Press.

Fanon, Frantz 2016, Écrits sur l’aliénation et la liberté, edited by Jean Khalfa and Robert J.C. Young, Paris: La Découverte.

Gordon, Lewis R. 2015, What Fanon Said: A Philosophical Introduction to His Life and Thought, New York: Fordham University Press.

Harrison, Hubert 2001, ‘The Negro and Socialism: 1 – The Negro Problem Stated’, in A Hubert Harrison Reader, edited by Jeffrey P. Perry, Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press.

Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich 1977, Phenomenology of Spirit, translated by A.V. Miller, Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Books.

Hudis, Peter 2012, Marx’s Concept of the Alternative to Capitalism, Historical Materialism Book Series, Chicago: Haymarket Books.

Hudis, Peter 2015, Frantz Fanon, Philosopher of the Barricades, London: Pluto Press.

JanMohamed, Abdul 1986, ‘The Economy of Manichean Allegory: The Function of Racial Difference in Colonial Literature’, in ‘Race’, Writing, and Difference, edited by Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Kwame Anthony Appiah, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Lee, Christopher J. 2015, Frantz Fanon: Toward a Revolutionary Humanism, Athens, OH: Ohio University Press.

Marx, Karl 1975a, ‘Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right. Introduction’, in Marx–Engels Collected Works, Volume 3, New York: International Publishers.

Marx, Karl 1975b, Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, in Marx–Engels Collected Works, Volume 3, New York: International Publishers.

Marx, Karl 1976, The Poverty of Philosophy, in Marx–Engels Collected Works, Volume 6, New York: International Publishers.

Marx, Karl 1977, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy. Volume One, translated by Ben Fowkes, New York: Penguin.

Marx, Karl and Frederick Engels 1983, ‘Preface to Russian Edition of the Communist Manifesto’, in Late Marx and the Russian Road: Marx and ‘The Peripheries of Capitalism’, edited by Teodor Shanin, New York: Monthly Review Books.

Parry, Benita 1987, ‘Problems in Current Theories of Colonial Discourse’, Oxford Literary Review, 9, 1: 27–58.

Roberts, Michael 2016, The Long Depression: How It Happened, Why It Happened, and What Happens Next, Chicago: Haymarket Books.

Shatz, Adam 2017, ‘Where Life Is Seized’, London Review of Books, 39, 2: 19–27, available at : <https://www.lrb.co.uk/v39/n02/adam-shatz/where-life-is-seized&gt;.

Wyrick, Deborah 1998, Fanon for Beginners, New York: Writers and Readers Publishing.

Yaki Sayles, James 2010, Meditations on Frantz Fanon’s Wretched of the Earth, Chicago: Spear and Shield Publications.

Zeilig, Leo 2016, Frantz Fanon: The Militant Philosopher of Third World Revolution, London: I.B. Tauris & Co.

Notes

[1] Fanon 2004, p. 5.

[2] See Gordon 2015, Lee 2015, Bird-Pollan 2015, Hudis 2015, Zeilig 2016. See also Coulthard 2014.

[3] See Fanon 2016.

[4] For specific expressions of this, see Hudis 2015, p. 1.

[5] See Parry 1987, p. 33.

[6] See especially JanMohamed 1986 and Bhabha 1999.

[7] Of course, vital appropriations of Fanon’s work occurred in recent decades that were outside the purview of most postcolonial theorists – as by South African youth during and after the Soweto Uprising in 1978. The impetus for this came from the Black Consciousness Movement and not the ANC – which adhered (as it still does) to the two-stage theory of revolution, which calls for a prolonged stage of national capitalist development while pushing a socialist transformation off to the distant horizon.

[8] For a fuller discussion of these developments, see Taylor 2016.

[9] For more on this, see Hudis 2012, pp. 169–82.

[10] For a substantiation of these claims, see Roberts 2016.

[11] For a pathbreaking study that put forward this thesis, see Cox 1948.

[12] Marx 1976, p. 167.

[13] See Anderson 2010, pp. 79–153.

[14] Marx 1977, p. 414.

[15] See Debs 1903 for a classic formulation of this position.

[16] Fanon 2008, p. xi.

[17] Hegel 1977, p. 10.

[18] Fanon 2008, p. v.

[19] Ibid.

[20] Fanon 2008, p. xii.

[21] Ibid.

[22] Marx 1975a, p. 186.

[23] Marx 1975b, p. 274.

[24] Marx 1975b, p. 296.

[25] Marx 1975a, p. 185.

[26] Basso 2015, p. 4.

[27] Fanon 2008, p. xiv.

[28] It is therefore no accident that one of the most commonly circulated posters during the US Civil Rights Movement was the simple – albeit enormously profound – statement, ‘I am a Man.’ Curiously, thousands of virtually the same posters resurfaced, in a new form, during the street protests against police abuse in Chicago, New York, and other cities in 2015 and 2016 – although many of them also read, ‘I am a Woman.’

[29] Hegel 1977, p. 119.

[30] Fanon 2008, p. 195.

[31] See Hegel 1977, p. 119: ‘Having a “mind of one’s own” is self-will, a freedom which is still enmeshed in servitude.’

[32] Fanon 2008, p. 106.

[33] Gordon 2015, p. 54.

[34] Fanon 2008, p. 112.

[35] Fanon 2008, pp. 112–13.

[36] Fanon 2008, p. 112.

[37] Fanon 2008, p. 117.

[38] Cherki 2006, p. 64.

[39] See Harrison 2001, p. 54.

[40] See Dunayevskaya 2003, pp. 267–73.

[41] See Wyrick 1998, p. 132: ‘In fact, Fanon believes that colonialism causes the Marxist model of base and superstructure to collapse altogether because economic relationships are secondary to racial ones. That is, the Manichean thinking on which colonialism depends blots out other distinctions, hierarchies, logical patterns.’

[42] Fanon 2004, pp. 93–5.

[43] Yaki Sayles 2010, p. 304.

[44] Yaki Sayles 2010, p. 181.

[45] Shatz thinks that Fanon had already reached this position by the end of Black Skin, White Masks (Shatz 2017, p. 20). However, Fanon’s emphasis on ‘reaching out for the universal’ and creating ‘a new human world’ is better seen as a concretisation of his insistence (in critiquing Sartre) that black consciousness is the mediating term in the movement from the individual to the universal.

[46] Fanon 2004, p. 182.

[47] Fanon 2004, p. 119.

[48] Alice Cherki, who knew Fanon very well, reports that the transcripts of the proceedings of the first four Congresses of the Third International, which debated this issue, held ‘a great fascination for Fanon’. See Cherki 2006, p. 93.

[49] Fanon 2004, p. 118.

[50] Fanon 2004, p. 23.

[51] Fanon 2004, p. 69.

[52] Fanon 2004, p. 111.

[53] Fanon 2004, p. 138.

[54] See Marx and Engels 1983, p. 139.

[55] Fanon 1967, p. 65.

[56] Fanon 1967, p. 74.

[57] Fanon 1967, p. 144.

[58] Ibid.

[59] Fanon 2004, p. 62.

[60] Shatz 2017, p. 26.

[61] Fanon 1967, pp. 180–1.

[62] Fanon 1967, p. 187

[63] Fanon 1967, p. 192.

[64] Fanon 2004, p. 55.

[65] Fanon 2004, p. 235.

Conspiracy Theory vs. Socialist Logic

Originally published by Socialist Standard.

Conspiracy-theory, or conspiracism, has it that much of the world today is to be understood in terms of ‘conspiracy’ be it by scientists, extra-terrestrials, masons, or whoever.

Currently gaining credence among many is the idea that all accepted science is a conspiracy, for relativity theory and quantum physics are specialised subjects. Einstein is difficult to understand and the majority of us are not astrophysicists, or other types of scientist, but that is no reason to dismiss these theories.

Many in society seek solace in pseudoscience, and therefore in conspiracism, whereby they can feel in control over what they cannot understand. Conspiracism absolves you from having to undertake painstaking research where you are not willing to trust those who actually have expertise in a difficult subject. Conspiracism attracts people from an entire spectrum, eager to feel that they belong to something: right or left in their leanings, dependent on what they were before becoming conspiracist. The phenomenon appears to attract ‘truthers’ – those who know the ‘truth’ despite the facts. Some are avowedly Christian, others not. Some dally with other rehashed mythologies, interpreted to fit in with their modern conspiracism. Many are, in fact, as members of the working class, confused and vulnerable, and want to feel significant; which they feel modern scientific thinking cannot help them with.

It is tempting to draw some similarity in all of this to the declining years of the Roman Empire, so brilliantly shown in the film Agora, about the last days of the great Library of Alexandria. Science and learning were then the property of a privileged few, and this is largely how they are seen today by many attracted to conspiracism and ‘truthism’. Today we are bombarded, flooded, with ideas and theories via the internet, whilst actual reading has declined.  Some conspiracy theorists tend to deride books which contradict them, dismissing them as the propaganda of those ‘in on’ the ‘great conspiracy.’ Book-learning becomes associated with closeted academia and so is deemed irrelevant. So refutation of a conspiracist’s ideology from facts outlined in books is futile.

With many people feeling disenfranchised from intellectual life, as they are in fact disenfranchised economically (being born in the wage-slave class), old and new-style forms of fanaticism win converts. Conspiracism is an obstacle to socialist awareness. Vital to the spread of socialist awareness is the materialist conception of history and recognition of human scientific progress.

Marx knew this when he wrote welcoming and applauding the publication of Darwin’s The Origin of Species, recognising science as the necessary ally of socialism. Above all, the scientific study of history is vital and paramount, as history is an evolutionary process.

Capitalism is not a conspiracy. It is a system that evolved through social and economic processes, just as socialism will have done. Capitalism, and class societies as a whole, do by definition encourage ‘conspiratorial’ behaviour, but they are historically, not ‘conspiratorially’, produced.

Everything grows from an antecedent and does not appear out of the blue.

Conspiracy theory backs up the bourgeois myth of an evil human nature (‘Original Sin’ rehashed for the modern age). To paraphrase Karl Marx, the morality of a given age is the morality of its ruling class. The cut-throat values of the capitalist class have us believing in a human cut-throat nature in which everyone is a potential conspirator, a potential thief, a potential brigand. Thus an ideology of brigandage, sustained by the viciously competitive nature of capitalism, leads people to see their fellow beings as either real or potential brigands.

Conspiracism reduces everything to a school playground view wherein everything is viewed as the machinations of some cartoon-like gang independent of history. Those who attempt to spread conspiracy theory do a disservice to the cause of achieving a better world, by further confusing already confused workers and by giving ammunition to those who label socialists as cranks and claim capitalism to be the end of history.

We urge our fellow workers to face reality, embrace knowledge, and recognise for what it is the ridiculous zealotry known as conspiracy theory. Emancipation from the system of wage-slavery, poverty, prices and profits requires a grasp of social history and of social and natural realities.

A Brief Inquiry into the History, Logic, and Spatiality of Financial Derivatives

By Jacob Ertel

Capitalism, at its most elemental, is a system of inherent volatility. The character of this volatility is contingent on how a state's political-economic institutions are able to mitigate risk by facilitating the movement of capital. How and where this capital moves is paramount in crisis obviation. Capitalism tends towards a range of interrelated crises-democratic, economic, political, social-but central to them all is the ongoing accumulation of surplus-value. The central risk here is that competition will result in an excess of capital relative to available opportunities to reinvest it. This excess can take a range of forms, from commodities, to money, to labor power (i.e., unemployment). States may attempt to resolve crises of overaccumulation in two ways. The first involves devaluating capital through inflation, commodity gluts on the market and falling prices, diminished productive capacity, and/or falling real standards of living for workers. The second method, known as the 'spatial fix', entails developing new markets in which to invest excess capital.[1] These terrains are often conceived as untapped geographical markets that may be turned into new centers of production, thus allowing for a temporary displacement of overaccumulation. Though productive forces remain indispensible to any mode of accumulation, advanced capitalism today may be characterized above all by an ongoing 40 year shift towards the primacy of the financial sector and the predominance of circulation over production.

Whereas the motive of the production process is the extraction of surplus-value through the exploitation of labor, the circulation process itself does not create value; instead, its profits generally derive from the redistribution of surplus-value. [2] This fundamental shift (the specifics of which will be discussed below) exposes more individuals and firms to financial risk than ever before. While capital seeks out new productive markets for reinvestment in all modes of capitalist accumulation, with financialization have come new kinds of spatial fixes that cohere with the unproductive, fictitious, and redistributive logic of circulation. As both social and historical constructions, the structures that facilitate the displacement of risk undergo periods of relative strength and weakness according to the dynamic between an economy's productive capacity and its exposure to risk. [3] When productive capacity is diminished, speculative capital flows increase as investment shifts from productive to financial capital in the attempt to ensure stability against currency devaluation. With the advent of derivatives, however, risk is not only circulated faster and further, but commodified itself. Building on financialization and derivatives literature, this essay suggests that we may understand derivatives as a spatial fix in their own right, which paradoxically both displaces and amplifies risk. Despite important qualitative differences from older, more established strategies of crisis displacement, however, derivative-based spatial fixes exemplify a core dynamic central to all forms of capitalist accumulation. It will be argued here that while on one hand financial derivatives constitute the separation of the sphere of circulation from the sphere of production and thus from physical localities, they are simultaneously inextricable from them. This tension between production and circulation may in part account for the unique form of contemporary capitalist accumulation.

This essay is divided into four sections. The first section addresses the technical aspects of derivatives: what they are, how they work, and some of the different forms they may take. The second section will present an abridged history of derivatives spanning from their agricultural origins to their current use in financial markets. The third section explains how derivatives are unique from other financial instruments, and asks what these differences indicate for the state of the global economy more generally. The final section analyzes derivatives with regard to two critical concepts in geographical political economy: spatio-temporal fixes and time-space compression.


What Are Derivatives?

At the most general level, a derivative may be understood as a kind of financial contract used to expose counterparties to fluctuations in the market price of an underlying commodity, asset, or event. [4] They may also be thought of as "bilateral contract[s] that [stipulate] future payment and whose [values are] tied to the value of another asset, index, or rate or, in some cases, depends on the occurrence of an event." [5] Whereas other financial instruments may involve an exchange of principal or title, derivatives exist in order transfer value between parties based on an underlying price change or event. In so doing, derivatives exist "to bind and blend different sorts of 'particular' capital together" [6] through securitization and risk commodification. A derivative contract entails that the claim on the underlying asset or the cash value of that asset must be executed at a definite time in the future. Capital is moved until the contract is settled. As opposed to insurance instruments, which protect individuals from risk by requiring policyholders to buy in with some sort of collateral (an 'insured interest') that they could lose in the context of the issuance of the policy, derivatives do not require this kind of collateral; anyone can trade in derivatives regardless of their relation to the underlying asset.[7] As such, derivatives operate solely according to these bilateral contracts between parties with differing perspectives on or vulnerabilities to risk. [8] This is the core feature of derivatives: that a plethora of risk may be traded independent the underlying asset. This development now often comes in form of cash settlement, which frees counterparties from delivering the underlying asset.[9] Cash settlement allows various characteristics of a commodity, asset or security to be separated and traded. In financial derivatives contracts, transactions are purely monetary and do not entail any change in ownership of the underlying assets. [10] Derivatives are assigned a notional value according to the multiplication of its spot price by the number of units of the underlying asset stated on the contract. [11] Pricing derivatives is determined by a rate of interest, specifically the London Interbank Offered Rate (LIBOR). LIBOR is set by an amalgam of banks in the derivatives markets, and is made through the evaluating the average of interest rates submitted by each of these banks daily. [12]

Derivative contracts are supposed to offset volatility in financial markets by separating assets themselves from their price's volatility. [13] This separation constitutes a way to hedge the risks endemic to financial speculation, as speculators believe they can diminish their exposure to volatile asset prices. Because any potential failure to execute a contract at full notional value may be hedged through another derivative contract (valued according to perceived chance of execution of the initial derivative contract), the aggregate value circulating through derivatives contracts is grossly disproportionate to the price of all the underlying assets being traded for. [14] Despite this risk-exacerbating practice, derivatives are generally considered relatively inconsequential to capitalist economies. Because they are not a "real input in the production process nor a means of conveying wealth," and since they "fixate on short-term capital flows rather than longer-term investment," traditionally liberal economic views do not take derivatives seriously as a global threat to the banking system, even with their ability to concentrate a large amount of leverage on a single instrument. [15] Yet whereas they are often considered economically marginal and unrelated to the real economy, in fact derivatives have become the largest industry in the world, such that they themselves are becoming key sites of asset price determination rather than the other way around. [16] What these more traditional views miss, then, is that derivatives are in fact related to the real economy, despite their relative degree of separation from the production process.

Derivatives can be traded either in regulated exchanges or 'over-the-counter' (OTC). Exchanges include institutions such as the London International Financial Futures Exchange and the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. Whereas derivatives traded on exchanges require money as collateral and for extra margin payments to be made against adverse fluctuations in the market, OTC derivatives are entirely unregulated. [17] Unlike exchange-traded derivatives, which entail a finite transfer of payment between parties, OTC derivatives contracts are kept open through clearing houses that continuously circulate debt instruments. The market for OTC derivatives has expanded drastically in recent decades, bringing with it new forms of risk and volatility. OTC derivatives are cheaper and more flexible than exchange-traded derivatives, but also they carry a higher degree of risk and are not easily sold to third parties due to their relative lack of liquidity.[18] This means that during volatile periods OTC derivatives are more likely to adversely impact the entire financial system. Yet OTC trading has been on the rise despite this predicament, with nearly one third of trading taking place in dealer-to-dealer transactions, and with each transaction tied to at least one dealer bank as a counter party. [19] Dealer banks are highly concentrated, with fifteen to twenty dealers controlling bulk of OTC trading globally.[20] The boom in OTC trading may be exemplified best by the growth of hedge funds, the participation of financial wings of major corporations, and the involvement of commercial and investment banks. [21] All of this signals an increasing predominance of the financial sector of the economy over the productive sector. It also points towards greater susceptibility to economic instability, as the "default by a major institution, a shift in the prices of derivatives in financial markets sufficient to undermine the viability of a major institution, or the inability to net out obligations and receipts" could all trigger a system-wide crisis. [22] With less productive capital overall in the era of financialization, greater exposures to risk likewise threaten the longevity of the productive sector itself, which is now thoroughly integrated into the financial sphere. Taking on greater risks through trading in derivatives raises the likelihood that the investor will profit or lose money. Large losses can result in bankruptcy, engulfing the various individuals, banks, and institutions that lent money to them and exacerbating systemic risk. [23] In this sense, we may begin to better understand the paradoxical connectedness between the 'real' economy and financial markets.


Different Types of Derivatives

Most derivatives traded today take the form of forwards, futures, options, and swaps. The oldest and most intuitive type of derivative is a forward. Briefly, a forward is a contract between two parties codifying the obligation to buy or sell a particular quantity of an item at a fixed price or rate and a definite future point in time. Foreign exchange forwards, for example, obligate both parties to exchange agreed upon amounts of foreign currencies at a specified rate at a future date. These rates are generally traded 'at par' or 'at market,' meaning the value of the contract at the time it is traded is zero and no money need be traded at the contract's initiation. This means that the market value of the contract is zero, but parties can decide to post collateral as a means of insuring the terms of the contract.[24] Because they are specialized according to specific needs, forwards are relatively limited derivatives contracts, and may involve high search costs to find parties with opposite needs (i.e., exposures to risk). [25] Forwards' binding of parties to exchange may also lead to inconveniences for one or both parties after the contract is actually entered into. If one party defaults, significant legal fees may be required to secure the forward price, and this risk prompts both parties to monitor one another's respective viability.[26] Contract terms are often standardized in order to avoid some of these potential issues. Forward contracts that are standardized, publicly traded, and cleared through a clearing house are referred to as futures. As opposed to forwards, futures are traded on organized exchanges and are largely substitutable for one another, which allows for greater trading volume and contributes to higher market liquidity. This new liquidity may improve the price discovery process, or how reflective market prices are of key information.[27]

As opposed to forwards and futures, option contracts allow the buyer or holder (also called the long options position) to buy or sell the underlying asset in the future. More specifically, buyers are purchasing the right to buy or sell the asset at a particular price (known as the strike price) either at a particular date (known as a European option) or at any time between the option's initiation until its expiration date (known as an American option), and can be traded on individual stocks, stock indexes, and even through futures contracts themselves. [28] Options to buy and sell are known as calls and puts, respectively. Buying and selling on options is somewhat trickier than with forwards and futures; if the spot market price of a stock exceeds the strike price during the window in which the option could be exercised, then the holder may buy at a lower strike price by exercising the option. In this case, the option's value would be the higher market price. If the market price remained below the strike price during the period in which the call option could be exercised, however, then the option would expire worthless. [29] An option's price is often a reflection of market interest rates, the time to its maturity, the historical price volatility of the underlying asset, and the proximity of the underlying asset to its strike price. [30] As with other types of derivatives such as foreign exchange forwards, options can concern financial rather than real commodities. For example, interest rate options provide insurance against increases and deceases (caps and floors) and hikes and drops (collars) in interest rates. Cap options create a ceiling to protect against hikes in interest rates, while floor options create a minimum rate to protect against a potential fall in rates. [31] Options are predicated on the tension between selling short and going long. If someone who does not own the underlying asset sells it through a derivative contract in anticipation of buying it back at a lower price or in the open market at whatever price prevails, they are selling it 'short'. Short-selling produces tremendous exposure to risk. As Henwood notes, "short-selling exposes the practitioner to enormous risks: when you buy something-go long, in the jargon-your loss is limited to what you paid for it; when you go short, however, your losses are potentially without limit." [32] Brokers hypothetically are expected to evaluate clients' credit rating in order to justify short-selling, but this practice is not highly regulated.

More recently, derivatives markets have turned towards the proliferation of swap contracts, which differ somewhat from forwards, futures, and options. A swap contract is perhaps most reflective of the contemporary usage of derivatives, constituting an agreement between counterparties to 'swap' two different kinds of payments, each calculated by applying an interest rate, exchange rate, index, or the price of an underlying commodity or asset to a notional principal.[33] Swaps usually do not require the transfer or exchange of the principal. Uniquely, payments based on swaps are done at regular intervals throughout the duration of the contract. In other words, whereas exchange-traded derivatives involve actual claims on an underlying assets, swaps do not; instead, the swap is between two sets of cash flows, which are usually destabilized by positions in other securities such as bonds or stock dividends.[34] Swaps can take several forms. A 'vanilla' interest rate swap, for example, involves one series of payments based on a fixed interest rate and another based on a floating interest rate. A foreign exchange swap entails an opening payment to purchase a foreign currency at a specified exchange rate, and a closing payment selling the currency at a specified exchange rate. A foreign currency swap consists of one set of payments derived from either a long or short position in a stock or index, and another set derived from an interest rate or other equity position,

amounting to a combination of a spot and forward transaction. [35] Currency and interest rate swaps have become especially important in recent decades. The former allows investors to hedge principle and interest payments in one currency against a preferred currency, while the latter allows borrowers to arbitrate between component markets of the international bond market. In this respect, swaps have played an instrumental role in controlling for short-term risk and thus making international bond markets particularly attractive for global investment. [36]

While each type of derivative contract is uniquely structured, they all share important commonalities. Derivative contracts can be settled either through the physical delivery of the underlying asset or through cash settlement with adjustments of margins on financial differences. Cash settlements allow for agents uninvolved in either production or the use of the underlying assets to speculate. Today cash settlement is more common, as most derivatives no longer involve the transfer of a title or a principle; instead, they create price exposure by conjoining their value and a notional amount or principal of the item form which the contract derives.[37] Taking a price position in the market while only putting up a small amount of capital used allows the investor to leverage, making it cheaper to hedge and speculate. Here derivatives are able to cover hedgers' risks on the spot market covering losses or compensating gains. [38] In speculative transactions with derivatives, however, an agents' position does not correspond to the spot market, and is thus exposed to greater risks in price variation.[39] A similar dynamic applies to arbitrage transactions, which occur simultaneously on the spot market and in the derivatives market. Arbitrage transactions, however, involve parties attempting to profit by exploiting price differentials, thus creating the opportunity for gains without risks. [40] All of this shows us that derivatives are used by a wide range of actors (investors, corporations, banks, etc.) to protect themselves against forms of risk. International agencies and banks use derivatives to hedge their loan portfolio positions, and transnational corporations use them to reduce their exposure to risk, with many creating financial divisions to actively speculate in derivatives markets. [41] Investment banks may also trade in derivatives for corporate clients, with the aim of boosting their liquidity by hedging positions in an inter-bank market.


An Abridged History of Derivatives

Some accounts of derivatives date their origins to biblical times in the form of agricultural consignment transactions. While derivatives trading can also be traced to 12th century Venice (exchanges on agriculture), late 16th century Amsterdam (forwards and options on commodities and securities), and 18th century Japan (futures on warehouse receipts and rice), modern derivatives trading began officially in 1849 when a group of grain merchants created the Chicago Board of Trade (CBOT).[42] The Chicago Board of Trade was originally designed to coordinate "geographically dispersed agricultural markets." [43] Through its legal framework for standardizing the classification of grain trading, it became the central hub in the United States for pricing grains. The CBOT's centrality during this period was facilitated by the development of new networks of railways and telegraphs in the US, which consequently enabled the CBOT to become first institution with a highly liquid futures market for grain contracts.[44] In so doing, the CBOT set the stage for a new kind of financial system in the late twentieth century, with the first formal set of rules governing futures contracts in forged in 1865. [45] Many farmers initially objected to the CBOT because they believed their products were priced too far away from the point of production. Such prices soon became essential for farmers, processors, and traders, however. As Muellerleile explains, "as grain commerce became more integrated with circuits of credit and capital, and more dependent upon risk-management tools such as futures contracts, the flow of price information became a prerequisite for cash crop farming."[46] This integration into growingly expansive flows of capital allowed the consistency of the price mechanism to become a measurement of the strength of the grain industry, which the US Congress declared in the national interest in 1922.[47]

With the onset of the Great Depression, however, the government adopted a more stringent role towards financial speculation (though the agricultural sector was excluded from this approach). The financial legislation put in place by the New Deal would form the bedrock for these new regulatory efforts, most particularly the Banking Act of 1933, which comprised of Regulation Q (the imposition of ceilings on savings deposits and interest rates that could be paid on time), the Glass-Steagall Act, and the creation of a national deposit insurance system facilitated by the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation.[48] By the 1970s, however, the Chicago exchanges began to apply their methods for pricing agricultural futures to urban financial instruments. State institutions began to more heavily regulate speculation, marking its first serious effort to do so since 1936. [49] The Chicago Mercantile Exchange created the International Money Market in 1972, which allowed for trading in currency futures and paved the way for more abstract contracts. [50] This development in part signified the dissolution of the boundary between agricultural futures and finance, aided by the expansion of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange's (the second largest exchange in Chicago) entrance into new products. [51] Chicago exchanges influenced the passage of the 1974 Commodities Exchange Act that expanded the definition of a commodity from several agricultural products (in the 1936 Commodities Exchange Act) to all goods, articles, services, rights, and interests that can be dealt in futures contracts. [52] At the same time, Congress granted the Chicago Futures Trading Commission (CFTC) sole jurisdiction over futures trading, disallowing any other federal agency or state government entity or law from interfering with the development of futures markets.[53] The CFTC and its related state financial agencies saw it as their duty to promote the spread and hedging of risk, including by the range of non-financial corporations that had traded in derivatives to shield themselves from fluctuating commodity prices, interest rates, and floating exchange rates with the demise of the Bretton Woods Agreement in 1971. [54] These developments were also aided by technological and conceptual innovations during the 1960s, as more economists began to claim that the US stock market was fully efficient in responding to all publicly available information and could be modeled with reasonable accuracy. [55] The popularization of the Black-Scholes pricing formula, for example, changed the character of speculation from advising on option prices to calculating mispriced options or assets, empowering traders to invest on market mispricings with large amounts of borrowed money. [56] Today hedge funds carry out these activities, pooling wealthy clients' investment contributions to arbitrate and trade in derivatives. [57] By the late 1970s in the midst of a crisis of stagnant economic growth and inflation, the Treasury decided it could stabilize currency by raising interest rates to encourage foreign holdings in US Treasury bonds and allowing for the exchange of derivatives on US debt brought to bond markets by the New York Federal Reserve.[58] This move provided the foundation for an unprecedented internationalization of derivatives markets.


Derivatives and Financialization

Derivatives trading has expanded to global proportions since the 1980s. The industry's growth may be attributed most centrally to the development over-the-counter trading for financial derivatives, which corporations utilize to protect themselves from volatility in interest and exchange rates, and which speculators use in their efforts to predict trends in financial markets.[59] The proliferation of financial derivatives during this period is a less frequently discussed but critical component of broader patterns of neoliberal financialization beginning with the gradual dissolution of the Fordist-Keynesian accumulation regime beginning in the late 1960s and taking off in the early 1970s. Keynesianism had provided a unique way of managing risks through stimulating consumer demand with demand-side policy. Its decline gave way to a flexibilization of price relations and the growing importance of market processes in managing financial matters, leading to an influx in derivatives trading. [60] With the deregulation of capital flows, Nixon's move to decouple the US dollar from the gold standard, and the 1973 OPEC oil shocks, price volatility increased in the early 1970s and paved the way for the internationalization of trade investment, exposing firms to greater degrees of risk. With the end of the fixed exchange rate system of Bretton Woods, Panitch and Gindin explain, "the derivatives revolution was crucial to the stabilization of currency markets…and was also immediately linked to the internationalization of the US bond market, which was occurring at the same time as the development of the separate Eurodollar market." [61] More simply, the growth of financial derivatives markets was a requisite for avoiding capital devaluation in a period of economic tumult. The growth of the multinational firm during this period demonstrates the attempts made to mitigate the new volatility endemic to a globalizing derivatives market. [62]As the US bond market opened up, foreign investors began maintain greater holdings in US Treasury securities, above 21 percent by the 1980s. Paradoxically, this uncertainty, "amid the volatility of commodity prices and rising short-term interest rates, actually enhanced the attractiveness of Treasury bills for international investors, who recognized the depth and liquidity of the US bond market despite all the hand-wringing about declining US economic power and strength."[63] Here we can begin to trace a theme of global integration into the financial derivatives market, underpinned by the US dollar-trading on international bonds implicates investors in the volatile movements of currency and interest rates. With investors able to swap various floating and fixed exchange rate obligations in order to better fit their perception of the market direction, the changes in currency levels and interest rates that had traditionally slowed markets down (investment in bonds denominated in suboptimal currencies were deemed too big a risk) began to play a different role in the global economy. [64]

Like the Fordist-Keynesian accumulation regime before it, financialization is a stage of capitalism fraught with contradictions. The term 'financialization' itself is heavily debated, with disagreements over its periodicity, its coherence with or distinctiveness from neoliberalism, and its most essential characteristics. For our purposes here, Kippner's definition is useful. For her, financialization refers to "a broad-based transformation in which financial activities (rather than services generally) have become increasingly dominant in the US economy over the last several decades."[65] The 'financial' here "references the provision (or transfer) of capital in expectation of future interest, dividends, or capital gains," as opposed to productive capital that arises from the production and trade of commodities.[66] This shift towards finance, beginning in the 1970s and expanding in the 1980s and 1990s, provided the state with a means for displacing the rigidities of the Fordist-Keynesian accumulation regime. This displacement occurred first and foremost in the deregulation of domestic financial markets throughout the 1970s, which gradually reduced restraints on the flow of credit. [67] Concurrent spikes in interest rates (most notably Federal Reserve Chair Paul Volcker's 1981 hike, more notoriously known as the "Volcker Shock") in order to restrain the economy in the absence of regulation on the supply of credit also emerged as a response to deregulation. These higher interest rates attracted remarkably high levels of foreign capital into the US economy, thus allowing for a drastic expansion of domestic financial markets and helping to tie the global economy to the floating US dollar. As strict monetary policy became the preferred tactic for stabilizing US currency during this time (resulting in rising unemployment), the Federal Reserve turned to a greater extent to the market, expanding credit at the same time as it increased interest rate volatility. [68] Above all, however, it was the deregulatory moves of the 1980s-removing controls that had restricted interest rates payable on savings deposits-that shaped the course of financialization. [69]


Financialization with Derivatives

Deregulation increased the price of credit while extending it to a broader constituency.[70] The incorporation of US multinational commercial banks into derivatives trading-in addition to Wall Street-based investment banks-should not be overlooked here. (Whereas investment banks create liquidity by dictating the terms of trading of securities, commercial banks do so by transforming deposits into longer-term assets.) [71] With the first significant derivative bond swap in the early 1980s between IBM and the World Bank, banks such as J.P. Morgan used overseas operations in London to bypass the regulations previously put in place by the Glass-Steagall Act and take advantage of growing derivatives markets. After executing the first credit default swap in the early 1990s, derivative contracts accounted for over half of Morgan's trading revenue. [72] Because derivatives are able to conjoin a variety of forms of capital and convert fixed and floating rate loans and currencies, Panitch and Gindin note, these markets were "able to meet the hedging needs not only of financial institutions (which exchanged 40 percent of all swaps among themselves), but also of the many corporations seeking protection from the rapidly evolving vulnerabilities associated with global trade and investment." [73] By the time the Clinton administration took power in 1993, Streeck explains, financial deregulation had "made it possible to plug the gaps resulting from deficit reduction, by means of a rapid extension of loan facilities for private households at a time when falling or stagnant wages and transfer incomes, combined with rising costs of 'responsible self-provision', might otherwise have jeopardized support for the policy of economic liberalization." [74] This shift may be understood as a kind of 'privatized Keynesianism,' [75] in which the public debt taken on by the state during the Fordist-Keynesian accumulation regime is transferred onto consumers in the form of individualized debt relations in tandem with a dissolving social safety net. This extension of credit to compensate for slipping wages and benefits effectively redistributes capital upwards.[76] With the state shifting debt-driven consumption from public financing to private, credit-based consumption, government debt comes instead from low receipts, or limits to taxation, while corporate interests are empowered to make increasing demands on the state. [77]

Arguably the central paradox of financialization is that while financial institutions, markets, and assets "can secure the return of value in particular instances," they "cannot guarantee the systematic augmentation and return of value in the aggregate." [78] As opposed to a wage labor relation, in which a fixed amount of capital is guaranteed to a capitalist according to the rate of surplus-value extracted from a worker and marks a contribution to the overall amount of real capital in circulation, financial markets operate in the sphere of circulation and can only either redistribute capital or create fictitious value. Financial markets begin to malfunction when the expansion of monetary value across an economy can no longer be guaranteed by participants in financial transactions. Here we can better understand a central contradiction of derivatives: they exist to offset or control this risk but ultimately increase it. Despite this paradox, it is not difficult to understand why derivatives have grown over the past nearly-four decades. They provide investors, corporate treasury departments, and bank risk management departments with the advantage of being able to hedge risk as a measure of insurance against adverse fluctuations in the market. [79] Moreover, they can provide signals to larger financial markets, which could ostensibly reduce uncertainty and unequal access to information. Derivatives also allow investors to more cheaply diversify their portfolios, as managers are able to expose themselves to derivatives according to a larger number of shares. Furthermore, derivatives operate on leverage and are thus cheap to trade in.[80] A liberal economic perspective might claim that derivatives are incapable of affecting the price of underlying assets in conditions of perfect market competition, and that they simply provide greater economic stability by spreading risk between different agents in the market; in reality, however, asymmetric access to information and imperfections in the instruments themselves open markets up to greater degrees of systemic risk. [81] In bypassing the sphere of production, surplus-value in production is replaced by essentially zero-sum casino bets, manufacturing risk through a social logic of mutual indebtedness.[82]


What's New About Derivatives?

As the field of financialized economic activity incorporates greater numbers of people through the financialization of risk, capital circulation becomes decoupled from the labor process. [83] Whereas the labor process relies on the extraction of surplus-value in the sphere of production, financialization means that the appreciation of fictitious capital becomes autonomous relative to productive appreciation, as tradable financial instruments are valued according to expected income flows and discounted by an interest rate. [84] On the other hand, however, this process should be understood as a means of integrating the workforce into financial channels and is thus actually semi-dependent on productive capital. Carneiro et al. assert that the advent of derivatives constitutes a new form of accumulation entirely, which they call the 'fourth dimension'.[85] While historically this fourth dimension of capital has developed in tandem with capital in its monetary form, it also "progressively constitutes an autonomous force in the process of capital appreciation when deep and liquid markets freely negotiate stocks of wealth." [86] In other words, this fourth dimension is linked to the changing role of derivatives in the 1970s, along with fundamental changes in the international financial and monetary systems allowing for more rapid accumulation over greater distances.[87]

At this point it is necessary to clarify two related yet distinct issues. One is the process of financialization, the other the growth of derivatives trading. Carneiro et al. assert that derivatives markets constitute a unique form of accumulation because capital appreciation occurs independent of initial investment. This is markedly different from credit-based capital appreciation. Since the 1970s financial relations have dominated economic policy-making, pushed more individuals into debt, and formed a new mode of accumulation characterized by falling profit rates and real wages, persistent unemployment, and mediocre growth in productive sectors. Yet within financialization, derivatives signify an even greater abstraction of capital from the process of accumulation. [88] Carneiro et al. explain this as "a difference in the nature of the gain from the operation," jettisoning the "need for money as a means of appreciation, or its advance in the beginning of the process." [89] This means that though "money is still an end to the process of valorization," it "loses its relevance as a vehicle of valorization, as well as the credit system." [90] This form of accumulation is intrinsically speculative-gains from derivatives transactions come simply from a bet on a price movement by an asset that is not owned by the speculator. Despite this fundamentally unique character of derivatives, however, it would be unfair to claim that derivatives are actually entirely independent of the production process. When changes in risk perception generate price-adjustments in the market in the form of the inversion of bets and settlements of contracts, "social relations of property and credit are again essential to ensure liquidity and solvency of agents involved in these markets, revealing the real social relations of power, property, and money that appeared previously only in a veiled manner."[91] The remainder of this report will detail the relation between the spheres of production and circulation vis-à-vis derivative-based accumulation.


Derivatives, Time-Space Compression, and Spatio-Temporal Fixes

Though the derivatives market is the most liquid in the world, it is also highly vulnerable to systemic crisis. Of particular concern is that derivatives may be based on practically any asset, including worker debt. As Lapavitsas explains, "these derivatives could be thought of as synthetic bonds," or "securities promising to pay the holder a return (interest) out of a variety of payments made by the workers which are pooled and then divided."[92] Workers' payments on, for example, housing and consumer debts, would entail a payoff for the holder of a given derivative security who has a claim on that personal debt. Despite their separation from the sphere of production, derivatives are in the final instance contingent on it. Labor thus becomes an extension of financial services themselves, vulnerable to risks entailed by the circulation and realization of capital, which it simultaneously empowers through deferred wages and relies upon in order to access necessities such as education and retirement costs. [93] Those that make up the productive sector are both incorporated into and dependent upon these circuits of realization.

Understanding derivatives' functionality helps us evaluate the specificities of contemporary capitalism's tendency towards crisis. As derivatives markets are predicated on the mitigation of risk, it is crucial here to consider how derivatives fit with established theories of capitalist crisis. One of the most notorious theories on this count is David Harvey's 'spatial fix.' Harvey explains that competition between capitalists leads to an uneven accumulation of capital, which threatens the reproduction of both capitalist and working classes. To recall from earlier, this threat takes the form of an excess of capital relative to available opportunities for profitable reinvestment (also known as overaccumulation). Overaccumulation manifests through a surplus of commodities, money-capital, and/or labor power. [94] There are two solutions to this problem. The first involves the devaluation of capital through inflation, gluts of commodities on the market and falling prices, productive capacity culminating in bankruptcy, and falling real wages and standards of living. This solution is not optimal for capitalists. The second solution, however, involves lending surplus capital abroad to create productive powers in new regions. This latter option is the crux of the 'spatial fix'. Crises are temporarily resolved because rates of profit in these new regions incentivize a flow of capital and raise the rate of profit in the system as a whole. The problem here is that higher profits entail an increase in the tendency towards overaccumulation; moreover, this now takes place on an expanding geographical scale. As Harvey writes, "the only escape lies in a continuous acceleration in the creation of fresh productive powers. From this we can derive an impulsion within capitalism to create the world market, to intensify the volume of exchange, to produce new needs and new kinds of products." [95] While capital is ultimately limited through productive capacity (only so many goods can be produced and circulated), derivatives-as instruments whose value is only derived from the asset underlying them-may represent a way of circumventing real barriers to accumulation.

According to Harvey, an irresolvable tension emerges between the devaluation of domestic capital due to international competition (apropos the development of new export-driven regions), and the internal devaluation of capital in these regions (as constrained development also limits international competition and blocks opportunities for profitable export). Productive forces in new regions constitute a competitive threat to the country that introduced the spatial fix, whereas limited development in new productive centers hinders international competition and reduces profitable opportunities for capital export, thus leading to an internal devaluation of capital with immobile overaccumulated capital. [96] Geographical expansion allows overaccumulated capital to be invested into labor surpluses and for the development of primitive accumulation processes in these exterior regions as an alternative to devaluation. Though the spatial fix applies mostly to overaccumulation resulting from competition in the sphere of production, overaccumulation itself is not limited to this dimension of capitalist relations. Beginning in the 1970s, for example, overaccumulated manufacturing capital in cities-in tandem with the influx of capital due to higher petroleum prices-garnered an excess of speculative capital that could not be used to boost industrial production. [97] This speaks to a crucial tension between speculative and productive capital, as this juncture required the freeing of speculative capital from the production process by creating a separation between new derivative instruments and their underlying assets. It is thus argued here, then, that derivatives markets constitute their own paradoxical form of a spatial fix, especially as the underlying assets become currency-related.

Crucial to the spatial fix embodied by derivatives markets is the time-space compression endemic to capitalist accumulation and financialization more dramatically. During the 1970s this dynamic took the form of organizational shifts in production that undid the managerial tendencies of Fordism, generating a more fluid and decentralized mode of production.[98] At the same time, technological innovation during this period allowed for a faster and more geographically distantiated financial sector. With an expanded reach, however, comes an increased tendency towards volatility; the shortened length of time capital takes to move across space facilitates more short-term gratification, but compromises states' ability to engage in long-term planning. This limitation means that financial institutions must either adapt quickly to rapid market shifts, or find ways to control volatility themselves.[99] The rapid and expansive movement of capital under financialization represents a paradox for Harvey, as "the less important the spatial barriers, the greater the sensitivity of capital to the variations of place within space, and the greater the incentive for places to be differentiated in ways attractive to capital," all of which leads to increasingly uneven development "within a highly unified global space economy of capital flows."[100] Though Harvey's "globalized space economy" still primarily refers to the sphere of production, the flexibilization of the financialized accumulation regime entails a fundamental shift in how value is represented as money: "the de-linking of the financial system from active production and from any material monetary base calls into question the reliability of the basic mechanism whereby value is supposed to be represented." [101] In other words, the productive sphere loses power relative to the financial.

Here it is necessary to question more precisely how the migration of capital from the sphere of production to the sphere of circulation may constitute a spatial fix. Bob Jessop, a critic of Harvey, argues that for however important the spatial fix, Harvey's focus on "the production of localized geographical landscapes of long-term infrastructural investments that facilitate the turnover time of industrial capital and the circulation of commercial and financial capital" [102] cannot adequately account for the movements and contours of capital under financialization. By examining spatial fixes solely in terms of the contradiction between the unstable movement of productive capital in the form of profits for reinvestment and the fixity of concrete assets with particular times and places, Jessop explains, Harvey elides a discussion of "the different forms of spatio-temporal fix in relation to the different stages or forms of capital accumulation, nor their articulation to institutionalized class compromise or modes of regulation." [103] While production entails a profit motive (the creation of surplus-value through relations of exploitation), the profits resulting from circulation derive not from any value it creates, but rather from its capacity to redistribute surplus-value. Jessop writes of the importance of 'time-space distantiation'-not just compression-in a globalizing world economy, or the expansion of political-economic relations across time and space such that they may be coordinated over greater distances and scales of activity. [104] For him, the twin dynamics of compression and distantiation indicate that "the power of hypermobile forms of finance capital depends on their unique capacity to compress their own decision-making time…whilst continuing to extend and consolidate their global reach." [105] This tension is present within any individual or interconnected circuit of capital, depending as they do on the relationship between "a physical marketplace and a conceptual marketspace." [106] Despite the altered character of these spatial barriers to accumulation, however, physical territory remains essential to the circulation of capital, as it is contingent on static ensembles in which the means of production and organization necessitate the extraction of surplus-value. [107]

Derivatives markets exhibit a unique spatio-temporal in relation to contemporary capitalist accumulation. As Bryan and Rafferty write, "derivatives, through options and futures, establish pricing relationships that 'bind' the future to the present." [108] Like Harvey's spatial fix centered on productive capital, derivatives markets may be viewed as a spatial fix in and of themselves in their attempt to hedge risk and stave off devaluation as more individuals and institutions become exposed to financial risk. Corporations trade in derivatives markets in order to handle their exposure to risks in a sea of variable rates and prices. Ensuring the value of money is key, and the spatial displacement constituted by derivatives (into cyberspace or digital space, as it were). It purports to facilitate this process in several respects. First, derivatives constitute a unique form of money by providing a universal measure for asset value across space, despite their dependence on nationally-based unequal levels of contestability. [109] In other words, derivatives are ultimately based on US norms of risk value and conceptions of secure financial claims. Second, derivatives markets aim to allow for the limiting of exchange- and interest-rate risks for corporations and for comparing various risk management strategies across time and space, though this may increase systemic volatility even these new strategies do not immediately drain productive capacity. [110] Finally, banks or other financial institutions might engage in securitization and over-the-counter trading in order to mitigate the uncertainties of profiting from credit money. As Soederberg explains, over-the-counter trading on securitized derivatives, particularly credit default swaps, "facilitates temporal and spatial displacements that allow banks to shift loans off the balance sheet by selling them to outside institutional investors, such as pension and mutual funds." [111] By spreading risk and shifting risks on to others, these institutions are able to at least temporarily protect themselves.

Here we encounter some problems, however. In particular, the dominance of credit makes it especially difficult to ensure the quality of money. This is especially true when it is less profitable to expand value production than to provide credit and profit through interest rates. [112] This is what Jessop means when he writes of "a fundamental contradiction between the economy considered as a pure space of flows and the economy as a territorially and/or socially embedded system of extra-economic as well as economic resources and competencies." [113] When capital is able to quickly exploit resources in one area without contributing to their reproduction and then move elsewhere to replicate this kind of circulation, it is compromising the sphere of production and thus the strength of the dollar. The sphere of circulation is particularly vulnerable when debt enmeshed in the web of speculation becomes irredeemable or the gap between the value of credit and that of real money becomes too wide. [114] However, the increasing use of securitization and derivatives markets as a risk management strategy has made regulating banks for capital adequacy unable to guarantee seriously limiting risk exposure. This is why in 2008 the key US financial institutions (the Fed and Treasury, as well as the Bank for International Settlements) all shifted to the same models for assessing risk as the largest banks, in the hope of accessing regulators' "fire codes."[115] Competitive pressures between big banks in derivatives and securities markets can lead to an indifference to these regulative warnings, thus further widening the gap between fictitious and real value. [116] When this occurs, the glut of fictitious values (in the form of privately created credit money) contributes to inflation and devalues currency. This problem was most severe in the crisis of 2008, when the American International Group (AIG)-a financial institution that provided insurance for other financial institutions on the creditworthiness of their derivative holdings-was ultimately unable to honor its insurance contracts and protect against loss.[117] Banks extending mortgages to borrowers turned to commercial banks in order to fund the loan, which would then sell the loan to government-sponsored enterprises such as Fannie Mae. These institutions consolidate a range of mortgages and sell the resultant mortgage-backed security (MBS) to an investment bank, which repackages the MBS according to its needs and issues other derivatives such as collateralized debt obligations (CDOs) to be bought by other lenders, banks, or hedge funds.

The link to the sphere of production is again crucial here. As Wolfson explains, "at the base of this complicated pyramid of derivatives might be a subprime borrower whose lenders did not explain an adjustable-rate loan, or another borrower whose ability to meet mortgage payments depended on a continued escalation of home prices. As the subprime borrowers' rates reset, and especially as housing price speculation collapsed, the whole house of cards came crashing down." [118] Derivatives do not require ownership of the underlying asset, so it is possible to speculate-via credit default swaps with an insurer-on the chance of default on a security without owning it. This property of derivatives means that the volume of insured securities can increase quickly and significantly, such that a relatively small quantity of securities can be insured at a much higher amount.[119] Since consumer credit can circulate only as a claim over a share of future profit, or surplus-value and depends on the stability of creditors to pay their loans, asset-backed securitzation has developed in order to ultimately ensure the quality of real money for speculative interests. [120] The time-space compression that occurs through derivatives trading "entails new actors, new strategies and the continual inversion of time and the expansion of virtual space to continue to fund claims on the fictitious value of credit."[121] It is clear, then, that derivatives are ultimately reliant upon productive capital. And while price fluctuations might trigger financial crises, the fear of devaluation due to an overaccumulation of capital is still at the crux. Because of the global scale of derivatives, it is not just the American state that must ensure the stability of the dollar, but any marginal economy, as a means of guarding against a downturn in their own currency value.[122]


Conclusion: Towards a Typology of Spatial Fixes

This paper has attempted to explain derivatives' instrumental properties, their historical development, and their distinct role in both mitigating and exacerbating crises. The basic premise argued that derivatives markets act as a kind of spatial fix in and of themselves, one that maintains several properties of Harvey's spatial fix of productive capital but that also differs in important ways. In summing up, then, this paper will provide a brief typology of spatial fixes in order to provide some clarity to the question of how these spatial fixes differ analytically.

We can think here of three kinds of spatial fixes. First is Harvey's spatial fix, which pertains to productive capital only. Second are financialized spatio-temporal fixes. These fixes are unique in their supplying of fictitious capital. Last are derivative spatio-temporal fixes which, like financialized spatio-temporal fixes, ultimately are dependent upon the sphere of production (in the sense of its effect on interest rates and exchange rates), but operate abstractly in digital OTC markets and move at an unprecedentedly rapid speed. While maintaining many of the properties of financialized spatio-temporal fixes, derivative spatio-temporal fixes constitute their own category because of their separation from an underlying asset. What unites these three forms of spatial fixes is that they are used in order to solve the problem of overaccumulation, yet ultimately contribute to greater systemic risk. What differentiate them are their respective degrees of separation from the sphere of production and, equally important, how they modify the circulation of capital according to spatial parameters. Each type of spatial fix also affects those linked to them in unique ways. For example, a spatial fix of productive capital mitigates a crisis of overaccumulation by opening up productive markets in new regions, or expanding the means of production. This affects capital by increasing the rate of profit in the system as a whole by incentivizing the flow of capital to these regions and trading on the world market, which ultimately tends again towards overaccumulation. A financialized spatio-temporal fix, in contrast, works by extending fictitious capital to individuals and institutions in exchange for later interest payments. Finance capital may be deployed in tandem with productive capital in order to build industry, procure assets, or pay for goods and services. At the same time, fictitious capital is by nature unproductive and thus its extension can be characterized as a mode of debt-driven accumulation. We can understand this process as a spatio-temporal rather than simply a temporal one because finance concurrently reshapes the landscape for productive capital while maintaining speculative interest due to stable currency. Of course, when expectations are too optimistic and a speculative bubble pops, debts are not repayable and financial institutions experience severe losses. [123]

Derivative spatio-temporal fixes are unique in their ability to commodify risk itself, thus "transform[ing] the temporal horizon of circulation-centered capitalism." [124] Derivatives constitute a fundamental shift in the operations of speculative capital and the internationalization of risk. [125] Whereas financial spatio-temporal fixes constitute a debt-driven accumulation tactic, derivative spatio-temporal fixes commodify the inherent relationship structured by that debt, and may be used for hedging, speculation, and leveraging across infinite space. This movement entails particular political consequences that are unlikely to recede on their own. As risks to capital are speculated on rather than altered and the globalization of risk is further insulated from political pressures, [126] crises such as that of 2008 will continue. Understanding the proliferation of these fixes to capitalist crisis is crucial if we are to consider viable alternatives.


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Tickell, Adam. "Dangerous Derivatives: Controlling and Creating Risks in International Money." Geoforum, Volume 31 (2000): 87-99.

Wolfson, Marty. "Derivatives and Deregulation." In Real World Banking and Finance, 6th Edition, edited by Doug Orr, Marty Wolfson, Chris Sturr, 151-154. Boston: Dollars and Sense, 2010.


Citations

[1] David Harvey, "The Spatial Fix - Hegel, Von Thunen, and Marx," Antipode, Volume 13, Issue 3 (1981): 7.

[2] Costas Lapavitsas, Profiting Without Producing: How Finance Exploits Us All (New York: Verso, 2013), 4.

[3] Scott Aquanno, "US Power and the International Bond Market: Financial Flows and the Construction of Risk Value," in American Empire and the Political Economy of Global Finance , ed. Leo Panitch and Martijn Konings (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), 121.

[4] Randall Dodd, "Derivatives Markets: Sources of Vulnerability in US Financial Markets," Financial Policy Forum, Derivative Study Center (May 2004), 1.

[5] Ibid, 643.

[6] Dick Bryan and Michael Rafferty, Capitalism with Derivatives: A Political Economy of Financial Derivatives, Capital, and Class (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 13.

[7] Sarah Breger Bush, "Risk Markets and the Landscape of Social Change: Notes on Derivatives, Insurance, and Global Neoliberalism," International Journal of Political Economy, Volume 45 (2016), 127.

[8] Bryan and Rafferty, Capitalism with Derivatives, 2.

[9] Lapavitsas, Profiting Without Producing, 6.

[10] Ricardo de Medeiros Carneiro, Pedro Rossi, Guilherme Santos Mello, and Marcos Vinicius Chiliatto-Leite, "The Fourth Dimension: Derivatives and Financial Dominance," Review of Radical Political Economics, Volume 47 (2015), 642.

[11] Lapavitsas, 5.

[12] Ibid, 9.

[13] Carneiro et al., "The Fourth Dimension: Derivatives and Financial Dominance," 644.

[14] Randy Martin, "What Differences do Derivatives Make? From the Technical to the Political Conjuncture," Culture Unbound, Volume 6 (2014), 193.

[15] LiPuma and Lee, 87.

[16] Bryan and Rafferty, 63.

[17] Adam Tickell, "Dangerous Derivatives: Controlling and Creating Risks in International Money," Geoforum, Volume 31 (2000), 90.

[18] Tickell, "Dangerous Derivatives," 90.

[19] Lapavitsas, 8.

[20] Ibid.

[21] LiPuma and Lee, 91-92.

[22] Tickell, 90.

[23] Dodd, 6.

[24] Dodd, 20.

[25] Bryan and Rafferty, 42.

[26] Ibid.

[27] Dodd, 20.

[28] Doug Henwood, Wall Street: How It Works and for Whom (New York: Verso, 1997), 29.

[29] Dodd, 21.

[30] Henwood, Wall Street, 30.

[31] Dodd, 22.

[32] Henwood, 29.

[33] Dodd, 23.

[34] Henwood, 34.

[35] Dodd, 23.

[36] Aquanno, "US Power and the International Bond Market," 131.

[37] Ibid, 19.

[38] Carneiro et al., 643.

[39] Ibid.

[40] Ibid, 644.

[41] LiPuma and Lee, 43.

[42] Tickell, 88.

[43] Chris Muellerleile, "Speculative Boundaries: Chicago and the Regulatory History of US Financial Derivative Markets" Environment and Planning A, Volume 47 (2015), 2.

[44] Ibid, 4.

[45] Tickell, 88.

[46] Muellerleile, 5.

[47] Ibid.

[48] Greta Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise of Finance (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012), 60.

[49] Muellerleile, 8.

[50] Tickell, 88.

[51] Muellerleile, 9.

[52] Ibid, 12.

[53] Ibid, 13.

[54] Leo Panitch and Sam Gindin, The Making of Global Capitalism: The Political Economy of American Empire (New York: Verso, 2013), 150.

[55] Donald Mackenzie and Yuval Millo, "Constructing a Market, Performing Theory: The Historical Sociology of a Financial Derivatives Exchange," American Journal of Sociology, Volume 19, Number 1 (July 2003), 114.

[56] Ibid, 44.

[57] Bryan and Rafferty, 4.

[58] Panitch and Gindin, The Making of Global Capitalism, 150.

[59] Bryan and Rafferty, 7.

[60] Ibid, 8.

[61] Panitch and Gindin, 150.

[62] Ibid, 50-51.

[63] Ibid, 151.

[64] Aquanno, 131.

[65] Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis, 2.

[66] Ibid, 4.

[67] Ibid, 52.

[68] Ibid.

[69] Ibid.

[70] Ibid, 58-59.

[71] Lapavitsas, 134.

[72] Panitch and Gindin, 176.

[73] Ibid.

[74] Wolfgang Streeck, Buying Time: The Delayed Crisis of Democratic Capitalism (New York: Verso, 2014), 51.

[75] Colin Crouch, "Privatized Keynesianism: An Unacknowledged Policy Regime," The British Journal of Politics and International Relations , Volume 11, Issue 3 (August 2009), 382.

[76] Martin, 195.

[77] Streeck, Buying Time, 66.

[78] Lapavitsas, 108.

[79] Tickell, 89.

[80] Ibid.

[81] Ibid.

[82] Martin, 191.

[83] Ibid, 199.

[84] Carneiro et al., 647.

[85] Ibid, 648.

[86] Ibid.

[87] Ibid.

[88] Lapavitsas, 3.

[89] Carneiro et al., 649.

[90] Ibid.

[91] Ibid, 650.

[92] Lapavitsas, 167.

[93] Martin, 196.

[94] Harvey, "The Spatial Fix," 7.

[95] Ibid.

[96] Ibid, 8.

[97] LiPuma and Lee, 98.

[98] David Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 1991): 284.

[99] Ibid, 287.

[100] Ibid, 295-96.

[101] Ibid, 296.

[102] Bob Jessop, "The Crisis of the National Spatio-Temporal Fix and the Tendential Ecological Dominance of Globalizing Capitalism," International Journal of Urban and Regional Research, Volume 24.2 (June 2000), 337.

[103] Ibid, 340.

[104] Ibid.

[105] Ibid.

[106] Ibid, 346.

[107] Ibid.

[108] Bryan and Rafferty, 12.

[109] Aquanno, 130.

[110] Panitch and Gindin, 188.

[111] Susanne Soederberg, Debtfare States and the Poverty Industry: Money, Discipline and the Surplus Population (New York: Routledge, 2014), 91.

[112] Ibid, 54.

[113] Jessop, 347.

[114] Soederberg, Debtfare States and the Poverty Industry, 54.

[115] Panitch and Gindin, 266.

[116] Ibid.

[117] Marty Wolfson, "Derivatives and Deregulation," in Real World Banking and Finance, 6th Edition, ed. Doug Orr, Marty Wolfson, Chris Sturr (Boston: Dollars and Sense, 2010), 152.

[118] Ibid.

[119] Ibid, 153.

[120] Soederberg, 43.

[121] Ibid, 91.

[122] LiPuma and Lee, 52.

[123] Wolfson, 151.

[124] LiPuma and Lee, 127.

[125] Ibid, 37.

[126] Bush, 134.