In early November 2019, Senator Marco Rubio gave a surprising lecture at Catholic University entitled, “Human Dignity and Purpose in Capitalism.” In the speech, the former Republican presidential candidate argued that the chief goal of capitalism is to provide for human dignity. According to Rubio, we must think about economics in a fundamentally different way. Economic growth and GDP performance are not reliable measures of economic health, and we cannot pretend that markets will always correct themselves. On Rubio’s account, problems like the opioid crisis, increasing suicide rates, and a lack of meaning among young people are failures of the market.
Rubio seems to think that the “financialization” of the economy is the antithesis of common good capitalism and the culprit of our problems. According to Rubio, financialization is the process of a labor- and production-based economy being overtaken by financial activity from large financial institutions. More specifically, Rubio fears the growing alienation between American workers and their labor. Workers should feel more connected to their work and be able to build physical products they can use, instead of selling their products in a complex market via financial instruments. Greta Kripner of University of Michigan elegantly describes this process as: “[a] pattern of accumulation in which profit making occurs increasingly through financial channels rather than through trade and commodity production.” Rubio’s fear about our current economy strikingly mirrors Marx’s critique of capitalism and profit. Marx believed that a worker’s labor is essential to him, and selling that labor for profit alienates the laborer from what is most essential to him. Instead, workers should own the means of production, and abolish profit. While Marx’s critique of capitalism is much more extreme and severe than Rubio’s (and Rubio specifically stated that socialism is not the cure to this problem), it is ironic to see Marxist undertones present in the writing of a prominent Republican senator.
It seems that much of Rubio’s analysis goes wrong with his nostalgic and romantic view of labor. Would Marco Rubio really prefer if 90 percent of the country did backbreaking work each day in farms, steel mills, and furniture factories to feel closer to their labor? While looking at Excel spreadsheets for eight hours a day may make us feel lonesome, is doing strenuous physical labor any less solitary? This is not meant to diminish the value of blue collar work, as I am the first to acknowledge that physical laborers are the backbone of this nation. My point is simply that slaving away at an anvil is not inherently more virtuous than slaving away at a keyboard. Furthermore, I would much rather live in the comfort of 2020 with modern medicine and transportation, than in the harshness of 1900—even if I were slightly less alienated from my labor. Personally, I prefer ordering a household item on Amazon with next day shipping to building that same item myself (and ordering it on Amazon may even be cheaper).
The next problem with Rubio’s vision is the question of who determines what exactly is the “common good.” Rubio’s vision of the common good may be promoting religious institutions, but another politician’s vision of the common good may be promoting something Rubio (and his supporters) find incredibly immoral or distasteful. Rubio’s “common good capitalism” sounds awfully a lot like Senator Elizabeth Warren’s “accountable capitalism.” By Rubio interfering in the economy to orient it towards his subjective notion of the common good, he invites people like Warren to do the same.
While I may personally agree with Rubio’s vision of the common good (informed by Catholic social teaching) more than Warren’s version of the good, is there really a difference between the two? Both aim to limit the free market, just towards slightly different ends. Both limit economic growth, and in turn hinder the quality of life for all people, in the name of their loose goals. Furthermore, it seems that this orientation would switch every eight years if either Rubio or Warren was able to implement their vision.
One of the most consequential problems with Rubio’s program is its effectiveness. As Kevin D. Williamson of National Review points out, the market is not actually becoming dramatically more financialized. In fact, the amount of assets controlled by financial firms has remained steady at two percent. As it turns out, our current social problems of addiction, loneliness, and declining marriage rates are not actually the result of financialization. These social ills are the result of, well, social factors—not economic ones.
This topic has been expounded on in great detail in sociology books like Bowling Alone and Coming Apart. Drawing from the themes in these books, Rubio’s Republican colleague in the Senate, Ben Sasse aptly describes the problems with modern America in his book, Them: Why We Hate Each Other and How to Heal. According to Sasse, our modern dilemmas are not the result of financialization; rather, they stem from a decline in social capital and certain cultural attitudes.
Social capital is defined as the “the networks of relationships among people who live and work in a particular society, enabling that society to function effectively” (communityworks, inc.). Sasse explains that “deaths of despair” (suicide and drug overdoses) and extreme poverty are the result of weak social capital, which is the result of declining participation in social institutions like churches, Rotary Clubs, and Boy Scout troops.
I am completely unconvinced that orienting the economy to the “common good” and ending the financialization of our economy will magically make people go to church and social clubs again. To fix our nation, we need a massive cultural movement, not more government interference in the economy.
Rubio’s speech is simply one crack in a massive faultline growing in the conservative movement. Conservatives are now preparing for a post-Trump landscape (even though Rubio attempted to assure his audience that he was not doing so). Some conservatives, like Senator Josh Hawley and author Sohrab Ahmari, are opting for a more robust, nationalistic brand of conservatism in stride with “common good capitalism.” While others, like Senator Ben Sasse, Congressman Justin Amash, and author David French, seek to return the party to its small government, free market, and classical liberal roots. Before conservatives proceed with this necessary debate, they must understand that the future of conservatism does not lie in a mutually exclusive choice between hollow Ayn Rand-style individualism and right wing Teddy Roosevelt-style progressivism.
Alex Mirage (COL ’22) is a Contributor.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official or personal position of the Editorial Board, Contributors, or Business Staff of The Georgetown Review.
