Another quoted the historian Arnold Toynbee, who said,
“We will either share the work, or take care of people who
don’t have work.”
People in the Depression-wracked 1930s, with what
seems to us today to be a very low level of material goods,
readily chose fewer work hours for the same reasons as some of
their children and grandchildren did in the 1980s: to have more
time for themselves and their families. We could, as a society,
make a similar choice today.
But we cannot do it as individuals. The mavericks at Kellogg
held out against company and social pressure for years, but in
the end the marketplace didn’t o=er them a choice to work less
and consume less. The reason is simple: that choice is at odds
with the foundations of the marketplace itself—at least as it is
currently constructed. The men and women who masterminded the creation of the consumerist society understood that
theirs was a political undertaking, and it will take a powerful
political movement to change course today.
Bernays’s version of a “democratic society,” in which political
decisions are marketed to consumers, has many modern
proponents. Consider a comment by Andrew Card, George W.
Bush’s former chief of sta=. When asked why the administration
waited several months before making its case for war against
Iraq, Card replied, “You don’t roll out a new product in
August.” And in 2004, one of the leading legal theorists in the
United States, federal judge Richard Posner, declared that
“representative democracy . . . involves a division between
rulers and ruled,” with the former being “a governing class,”
and the rest of us exercising a form of “consumer sovereignty”
in the political sphere with “the power not to buy a particular
product, a power to choose though not to create.”
Sometimes an even more blatant antidemocratic stance
appears in the working papers of elite think tanks. One such