Black Lives Matter: Three Currencies at work

The Black Lives Matter campaign, given the most enormous boost by the killing of George Floyd, provides a powerful example of the “three currencies” at work.

The roots of the movement illustrate the three currencies: in the cash employing commerce of the Triangular Trade of the late seventeenth and  eighteenth centuries and the slavery plantations of the Caribbean and the American South, the brute force employed by tribal chiefs and British slavers in West Africa and subsequently by slave masters, and in the cultural norms that facilitated the establishment of companies by royal charter and act of Parliament and, in the United States until the Civil War, tolerated and legitimated continuing enslavement of uprooted black people for two hundred years.

The current movement illustrates the three currencies too.

Policing, principally but not exclusively in the United States, that relies on physical (in the case of George Floyd deadly) force is an application of power where the application of persuasion and influence have failed.  Many observers argue that the overuse of force (including, in the United States, widespread resort to guns by police) ultimately frustrates the objective of achieving peaceful civil society, but that is generally not the belief of the shooters at the time.  It is impossible to get into the mind of Derek Chauvin, the police office filmed with knee on Floyd’s neck.  However, unless he mounts a defence in court of diminished responsibility as a consequence of a mental health disorder, we can only assume that his defence was that he believed that anything short of the force that he and his colleagues applied was insufficient.

Correspondingly, demonstrators who become rioters and throw missiles or charge a police line (albeit a police line is an application force) are deploying physical force reflecting the belief that the political expression of the demonstration is insufficient to achieve their purpose.  Of course, it is possible to argue that rioting and throwing missiles may frustrate the purpose of the demonstration in the eyes of other demonstrators and the wider audience, but that is not the belief of the rioters themselves.

The toppling of statues, particularly that of Edward Colston, is an interesting case in terms of where the line is drawn between the application of physical force as a currency and the application of influence.  It is indisputably criminal damage and the equally indisputable that the removal of the statue involved physical force.  But the removal of the statue was an exercise of political expression designed to further a shift in a political and cultural norm in pursuit of a wider objective.

The expression of the mass demonstrations, particularly in the context of restrictions on public gathering as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic, has clearly been a very powerful application of power to influence an outcome through political means.  There was already disgust felt widely across the world and within the American establishment without the demonstrations, but they have helped keep the story in the deadlines, have elicited positive responses from people in power (even if not from Donald Trump), and have generated accounts across mass media channels that probably both reflect a shift in public mood and reinforce it.

But what about Black Lives Matter as an expression of the third currency, cash?  Just look at the way that corporate America has responded.  What little I know of some of the corporate leaders who have spoken up to express their disgust at the conduct that result in the killing of George Floyd and others before him, satisfies me that most if not all of them instinctively oppose racism.  However, most have spoken as clearly as they have in the knowledge that this will be good for their businesses.  The messages coming out from the board room are not dog whistle statements designed to appeal to a “woke” audience without turning off an audience that is hostile to Black Lives Matter.  Opposing racism is good for their businesses.  Similarly,  as a merchandise director with the UK’s largest retailer of stationery, in the 1980s I justified developing environmentally friendly (or at least environmentally less harmful)  not just because I wanted to do my bit to help the save the planet, but because I was confident that it was going to be good for business – helping grow our sales and market share, enhance the standing of our brand, and attract the best and brightest young people to work for us.  It hasn’t required a threat by the black community to boycott these US corporations, but the knowledge that wide swathes of the American population, black and white, will be influenced positively by the corporation taking a stand.

Timeless themes in Galsworthy’s “Strife” (1909)

My mother in law and I have resolved the problem of the deadweight loss of Christmas (Joel Waldfogel, American Economic Review, December 1993) by giving each other a night out at the theatre, accompanied by her daughter/my wife. Whether last night’s trip to see “Strife” at the Chichester Festival Theatre was her gift to me or mine to her doesn’t matter, it was a great production and my first exposure to John Galsworthy’s insightful exposure of the fallacy of mindless short term focus on shareholder value, the importance of recognising the constraints on the firm of public opinion, and the pressures on the trade union to serve its long term interest over the pressures of the interested parties in the immediate dispute. Furthermore, themes on hand around corporate governance, the tension between external directors and a dominant shareholder chairman, and on the other (in the context of the current junior doctors’ dispute and the tensions within the British Medical Association) between the professional leadership of the trade union and the intransigent leader of the local workers’ committee, have a resonance in 2016 every bit as powerful as they may have had when the play was first performed in 1909.

Wikipedia provides a useful synopsis:

The action takes place on 7 February at the Trenartha Tin Plate Works, on the borders of England and Wales. For several months there has been a strike at the factory.

Act I

The directors, concerned about the damage to the company, hold a board meeting at the home of the manager of the works. Simon Harness, representing the trade union that has withdrawn support for the strike, tells them he will make the men withdraw their excessive demands, and the directors should agree to the union’s demands. David Roberts, leader of the Men’s Committee, tells them he wants the strike to continue until their demands are met, although the men are starving. It is a confrontation between the elderly company chairman John Anthony and Roberts, and neither gives way.

After the meeting, Enid Underwood, daughter of John Anthony and wife of the manager, talks to her father: she is aware of the suffering of the families. Roberts’ wife Annie used to be her maid. She is also worried about the strain of the affair on her father. Henry Tench, company secretary, tells Anthony he may be outvoted by the Board.

Act II, Scene I

Enid visits the Roberts’ cottage, and talks to Annie Roberts, who has a heart condition. When David Roberts comes in, Enid tells him there must be a compromise, and that he should have more pity on his wife; he does not change his position, and he is unmoved by his wife’s concern for the families of the strikers.

Act II, Scene II

In an open space near the factory, a platform has been improvised and Harness, in a speech to the strikers, says they have been ill-advised and they should cut their demands, instead of starving; they should support the Union, who will support them. There are short speeches from two men, who have contrasting opinions. Roberts goes to the platform and, in a long speech, says that the fight is against Capital, “a white-faced, stony-hearted monster”. “Ye have got it on its knees; are ye to give up at the last minute to save your miserable bodies pain?”

When news is brought that his wife has died, Roberts leaves and the meeting peters out.

Act III

In the home of the manager, Enid talks with Edgar Anthony; he is the chairman’s son and one of the directors. She is less sympathetic now towards the men, and, concerned about their father, says Edgar should support him. However Edgar’s sympathies are with the men. They receive the news that Mrs Roberts has died.

The directors’ meeting, already bad-tempered, is affected by the news. Edgar says he would rather resign than go on starving women; the other directors react badly to an opinion put so frankly. John Anthony makes a long speech: insisting they should not give in to the men, he says “There is only one way of treating ‘men’ — with the iron hand. This half-and-half business… has brought all this upon us…. Yield one demand, and they will make it six….”

He puts to the board the motion that the dispute should be placed in the hands of Harness. All the directors are in favour; Anthony alone is not in favour, and he resigns. The Men’s Committee, including Roberts, and Harness come in to receive the result. Roberts repeats his resistance, but on being told the outcome, realizes that he and Anthony have both been thrown over. The agreement is what had been proposed before the strike began.

Missing from the synopsis are some of the more subtle themes in Galsworthy’s text, including the recognition by Harness of the reality facing the company (that it will not survive if the strike continues and the men’s jobs are on the line) irrespective of Roberts’ concern for a wider struggle against “Capital”, John Anthony’s arguments about the primacy of the bottom line and his duty not to compromise, and the concern of the majority of the directors of the company for public opinion (and their personal reputations).