Uncertainty at the Crossroads of Needs and Wants
Food for Thought
The absence of a counterfactual has always been a tragic yet inevitable beauty of human life. It would be profoundly satisfying if we could foresee the consequences of our actions instead of brooding over alternative realities that never materialize. This very argument underscores why we loathe the word "uncertainty."
Ambiguity aversion—a phenomenon where governments, institutions, and individuals prefer known risks over unknown ones—pervades human behavior. The same uncertainty that compelled the U.S. to raise billions for the Manhattan Project also drove the USSR to forcibly relocate its citizens and exploit their labor to the fullest extent, actions that ultimately proved counterproductive in the long run.
Even everyday decisions, such as sticking to familiar meals or saving money rather than investing, reveal this ingrained behavioral bias. As a result, the general population's lives are often tailored to follow a predictable stream that minimizes uncertainties, albeit at the cost of essential possibilities.
However, such meticulously controlled routines are vulnerable to collapse in the face of unexpected upheavals. The 2008 Financial Crisis was a glaring example, initiating a paradigm shift that continues to demand urgent attention worldwide. While mainstream media vocalized the heroic narrative of a broader recovery, the quiet struggles of thousands remained in the shadows.
Their wounds, too deep to heal, left them unable to reclaim the rhythms of their former lives. Instead, they were forced to forge alternative paths, becoming the inevitable casualties of the so-called greater good.
The stories of such casualties tend to evade the public radar. However, Jessica Bruder, a well-known immersive journalist, and Sean Baker, a film director, had other plans. Drawn to the dramatic rise in caravans across the U.S., Bruder embarked on a journey to uncover answers.
Baker, whose filmography captures the raw emotions and naked truths of the streets, conducted extensive research on the rapidly forming subcultures in the U.S. Both were determined to shed light on those overshadowed by the gleaming world of consumerism—those who were forced to embrace uncertainty.
In the aftermath of World War II, wage rates symbolized a beacon of hope. The perfect blend of welfare and free-market capitalism led the Germans to label the era the "Wirtschaftswunder" joyfully. Little did they know that the "Wunder" was merely the calm before the storm. This delicate happiness faded as wage rates and pension rates failed to keep pace with the soaring housing costs.
The rise of acute capitalism after the 1980s spurred significant income inequality in the Western world. Stumbling through the years, the average young person found themselves repeatedly adjusting their vision of the ideal home. Simultaneously, the rising costs of necessities and healthcare unleashed their wrath on citizens. Suddenly, in the 2020s, motels and recreational vehicles have become surprisingly attractive alternatives.
Nomadland: Surviving America in the 21st Century, authored by Jessica Bruder, lies at the intersection of theoretical frameworks and humanity. However, Sean Baker's The Florida Project, released in 2017, solidifies the haunting outcomes of a nomadic life in the 21st century. Old-age poverty, as it seems, will undoubtedly steal the spotlight in the future. Pension rates continue to trail behind wage rates, gasping for breath. Generally, retirement savings fail to keep pace with the cost of living and inflation, leaving senior citizens with little choice but to re-enter the labor market.
The predatory instinct of modern capitalism readily takes advantage of this newly found opportunity as well. The gig economy, primarily abundant in population-dense regions, ensures a humble income for seasonal and daily wage workers. The gig economy, however, lacks any safety net to anchor human lives.
Both the protagonists of the movie and the book are seasonal benefactors of the gig economy. While Fern, the protagonist of Nomadland, was new to the uncertain life, Halley, a young single mother, was calloused by gripping the uncertain life for a long while. Halley lives a life far from exemplary for her six-year-old daughter, Mooney. At the age of six, when most children learn the basics of math, Mooney learns to steal, burn down buildings, and beg. Fern, on the other hand, awestruck by the cascade of events in her life, tends to curse her pushover nature but carries on, oblivious to what tomorrow might bring.
The unequal distribution of wealth and fortune is a consequential theme that both works neatly encapsulate. The Florida Project portrays the possibility of generational transfer of misfortune. The ineptitude to sink into the vibrant job market, coupled with failed endeavors, ensures them just enough money to barely break even their sustenance.
The opportunity to climb the income ladder is minimal and often impossible when faced with contingencies, leaving them eternally in a 'poverty trap.' Surfing the reasons for an ineptitude differential in a dynamic world yields you nothing but never-ending debates. However, the extraordinary changes, specifically in the tertiary sector, scream skepticism in human readiness to welcome such changes.
At the heart of entrepreneurial opportunities and growth lies innovation. Welcoming innovation is complementary to bidding farewell to existing, outdated innovations, a phenomenon Joseph Schumpeter introduced and came to be known as creative destruction. However, the sheer pace of innovation and the associated destruction today implores the question of how beneficial and inclusive modern innovations truly are.
Several theories, including Moore's Law and the Law of Accelerating Returns, suggest that the rapid spurring of innovation could effectively render the existing innovations obsolete in 18-24 months, translating to a vigorous job market that normalizes mass layoffs and extreme competition, where Fern, Halley, or Mooney don't stand a chance.
Exposed to a vastly different environment from the conventional one, human beings tend to forego several adaptations, and adapting to the fresh environment could take time, or in the worst situation, the conventional adaptation can be rendered counterproductive. Although "evolutionary mismatch" is a biological term, researchers have found enough evidence to support the nexus between the mismatch and income differentials in the modern world.
Does this mean the 21st century must embark on a journey devoid of innovation? Certainly not. However, a clear understanding of our priorities may help. Being selfless is not a luxury anymore but a necessity, given rampant climate change, raging income differentials, and vigorous globalization. Wants of the past are swiftly transforming into needs, a major success for modern consumerism.
Unfortunately, the want-based technological sector bags an attractive profit margin even when the workforce is relatively small and specialized. However, the need-based technological sector that includes health, transportation, basic utilities, etc., requires a larger proportion of workers consistently.
The time-old adage of leveling the playing field has not lost its shine. A structural imbalance among these sectors can further fuel inequalities in income and wealth in the long run. This cements the possibility of more recreational vehicles and motels across the globe in the future. Such subcultures seem intriguing when documented; however, in hindsight, the modern subcultures entail stories of neglect, failures, isolation, and despair.
Gandhian philosophy asserts a formidable place for the charkha, an old innovation used for weaving. Gandhi's reverence for the charkha went beyond its role in weaving; it embodied his belief that true innovation should provide a livelihood. For him, the charkha was a symbol of self-reliance, where work not only created but also sustained life, ensuring that progress benefited the individual and empowered the human spirit.
