The Homestead Steel
Strike of 1892 is among the most significant chapters in U.S. labor relations
history. Homestead, Pennsylvania is just south of Pittsburgh, on the west bank
of the Monongahela River. Andrew Carnegie
(1835-1919) owned the prosperous steel mill there. Some of its workers were
highly skilled and belonged to a craft union, Amalgamated Association of Iron
and Steel Workers. Carnegie was determined to break this union. He cut wages. Knowing
there would be trouble, he enlisted the Pinkerton Detective Agency to assist
him. At that time Pinkerton employed more agents than the U.S. Army had
soldiers. The 1892 event resembled a naval siege; the union was eventually
broken.
Elizabeth
Kolbert, writing in The New Yorker
(8/27/18), reminds us that several months before the Homestead Strike Carnegie
wrote a pamphlet about disposing of one’s fortune. Titled The Gospel of Wealth (www.carnegie.org), it argues against a big
inheritance for one’s children. It also argues against handing out money to the
poor. Instead, Carnegie said the wealthy have an obligation to endow
institutions that benefit the public—universities, libraries, cultural centers
and more.
The
juxtaposition of Carnegie’s pamphlet and his management of Homestead Steel
“made explicit” to critics “the inconsistency of Carnegie’s position,” Kolbert
writes. “How could a person ruthlessly exploit his employees and, at the same
time, claim to be a benefactor of the toiling masses?” Why, for example, didn’t
Carnegie endow a pension fund for his employees?
Carnegie
was not alone. When it comes to charity, most companies and foundations in our
country are guided by the so-called Protestant
business ethic. Deserving individuals or the public at large are assisted by
targeted programs or enrichment venues. However, the programs never challenge
the system and the benefactors never question “too deeply how it is they came
to do so well,” Kolbert concludes.
The attitude
of 19th and 20th century industrial titans parallels that
of our 21st century tech titans and their admirers. The big tech
players today—the founders, the original investors and the elite engineers—are
technology determinists. As Evgeny Morozov puts it in To Save Everything Click Here (Perseus Books, 2013), each and every
application of technology is “inherently good in itself, regardless of its
social or political consequences.” In
fact, if someone happens to notice a social problem, then its solution is more technology.
Homelessness, to give an extreme example, is tolerable with an app that makes
streets feel like home. Or as a Google executive said: If you want to solve
economic problems, create more entrepreneurs.
Central
to the philosophy of the tech leaders is their belief that they are doing
something for the greater good, both in their business ventures and in their
philanthropic enterprises. Some of them are sincere. Their frame of reference
from high school all the way to their current position never included concepts
like structural evil or the priority of labor or even an obligation to
the common good (which is not the
same as calculation of a common denominator).
When it
comes to their big charity ventures, explains Anand Giridharadas in Winners Take All (Alfred Knopf, 2018),
the high-tech players plus their financial and political admirers assume a
noble posture. They cannot imagine that their good intentions might actually be
making things worse. There is no need to consider any systematic change, they
presume. Inequality cannot be causing more suffering because doesn’t the
economy allow for universal opportunity?
The big stage for tech philanthropy is the
conference circuit. Events are held on Cape Cod, in Silicon Valley, in
Colorado, often in Manhattan, maybe in Switzerland or France. Headliners often
include Hillary Clinton, Chelsea Clinton and movie starlets. They are joined by
guests who have a startup project in
Los Angeles or Africa. These events are low on content, high on puff, says Giridharadas.
Key phrases at the conference include incredible,
amazing, awe-inspiring, empowering
and the like.
The
leaders of big tech companies want to do
good, they say. But they never challenge power arrangements in our society.
All of this, I suppose, is too much of a moral burden to place on someone who
simply hails an Uber ride or orders through Amazon. But today’s tech industry is far from morally
neutral. It warrants moral consideration. To be continued…
Droel edits a printed newsletter about faith and work, INITIATIVES (PO
Box 291102, Chicago, IL 60629).
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