Capital in the Twenty-First Century

Justin Pemberton's documentary Capital in the Twenty-First Century briefly examines striking differences between 19th, 20th, and 21st century economics, or the ways in which capital was or has been amassed during these periods according to remarkably different socioeconomic realities.

It emphasizes that after World War II the middle-classes in the Western World accumulated vast riches and became powerful political players, as their reach and influence expanded due to a much more level financial playing field.

Such wealth lead to significant political reforms (universal healthcare, public education, mass public transportation networks, retirement pensions, . . .) that sharply contrasted 19th century institutions, wherein which, as the film relates, a tiny fraction of the population possessed most of a country's wealth and power, and went about creating political systems that ensured they perennially held on to it.

The documentary suggests that the 21st century's economic realities thus far resemble the 19th's much more closely than the 20th's, insofar as tiny fractions of the population currently possess huge shares of their nations' wealth, as the power of related middle-classes has seriously declined in recent decades.

A contributing factor to this decline which the film examines is the current availability of tax resources.

I don't know how precise its figures are, documentaries are more like cool short essays than lengthy books, but it's clear from the data presented that a lot of international businesses that have arisen in recent years don't pay that much in tax, and if they did the public purse would have a lot more funds for roads, schools, transport, and hospitals.

The idea of healthy communities possessing disposable incomes to develop a wide variety of supplementary goods and services is an appealing one, inasmuch as a greater distribution of wealth and taxation leads to less poverty and crime.

Is it not preferable to sustain moderately happy employed communities wherein which there's a general sense of well-being, to networks of distressed fearful impoverished ones who can't afford to buy what you're trying to sell them?

Don't disposable incomes make the wealthy even more wealthy while keeping the rest of the population secure, so people don't have to worry about what neighbourhood they're in or hire private security?

Isn't a social sphere wherein which you can safely visit every neighbourhood or small town and see what creative things they have to offer preferable to avoiding certain towns and neighbourhoods while travelling around with heavily armed guards?

If manufacturing jobs return in abundance with reduced wages, don't prices have to decrease, to avoid economic collapses brought about by credit bubbles?

Doesn't the flourishing of well-financed public schools make for better general conversation and more stimulating books and films, as diverse multifaceted local voices find inquisitive global audiences?

Isn't curiosity preferable to contempt amongst different demographic groups?

The exchange of intriguing difference?

The development of more energy efficient technologies?

The Man in the White Suit

There's a timeless quality to Alexander Mackendrick's The Man in the White Suit(1951).

Its examination of capital and labour faced with the advance of progress has transferrable applications for any historical epoch.

It's fun to watch too.

A scientist within, Sidney Stratton (Alec Guinness), takes constant risks to develop an indestructible cloth that can't be stained, thereby revolutionizing the textile industry.

The owner of the company he works for is initially impressed, until his competitors note that Stratton's breakthrough will put them out of business, costing the British economy thousands of jobs.

It's a control issue.

Labour hears the news as well and recognizes their precarious position within the new marketable leap forward.

Heads contentiously clash until labour and capital realize they seek the same ends, proceeding thereafter to suppress Mr. Stratton as he tries to move forward with his discovery.

He doesn't realize the impacts of what he's doing until he accidentally bumps into an elderly person in the street, as he's on the run, laundry, the subject of conversation.

It's a compelling study of beginnings, of panic, in this instance, mixed with diverse voices from multiple stakeholders, and several unexpected serendipitous scintillations, the naive and the nepotists, the powerful, and the hungry.

Made me think of the Who Killed the Electric Car? film.

And baby steps.

I always thought that if you were making trillions of dollars from a non-renewable resource, you would spend some of that money on creating independent infrastructures to sustain local economies, if the resource happened to run out.

Future minded thinking.

You see this in the ways infrastructures are developing at the métro stations in Laval anyways, which are equipped with spots where you can park and rejuice your electric car.

Perhaps, as sales of electric cars (which are making a comeback), or hydrogen-fuelled vehicles, increase, petrol service stations will begin to proportionally offer a variety of services for them in order to manage profit fluctuations and keep their workforces employed.

Factories which manufacture cars fuelled by gasoline can switch to harnessing the power of electricity.

Slow moving change, linked directly to increased demand.

Rather than exclusively searching for new oil deposits, the focus could partially switch to finding new sources of electric power, in remote regions, while respecting local traditions, to supply the necessary increases in hydro-electric energy.

If the independent infrastructures are in place, the panic is slowly mitigated over time, and if you have 100 years and ample capital and labour to create them, civil unrest could be minimized.

A lot of people will still be mighty pissed-off however.

They may be upset if they find out they have cancer too.

This option could lead to a much cleaner environment.

A much healthier planet, more sustainable, in the fortunes of time.

Rango

Having accidentally escaped from his comfy aquarium, the theatrical Rango (Johnny Depp) is thrust upon the real world's stage. Finding himself in the small Western town of Dirt, he must instantaneously invent a hard-boiled character and deliver a stunning performance. When challenged he doesn't back down and fate consequently hands him a thunderous climax. His reward: the job of town Sheriff. His duty: protect the people of Dirt from ne'er do wells and bring back the water. The town has been drying up and the water that used to vigorously flow has stopped delivering its revitalizing bounty. As necessity demands action and circumstances require trust, Rango mystically discovers his edge and instinctively prepares for the final countdown.

In Rango, Gore Verbinksi works within the Western tradition in order to try and democratize its black and white contours. A monopoly has been sinisterly established thereby preventing the fair and equitable distribution of wealth. A comical hero strikes back, affirming the rights of his citizens in the hopes of restoring their dignity. Aided by a shapeshifting divinity, he develops the confidence he never knew he had and learns to sublimate his fears. Unfortunately, while the basic plot attempts to champion democracy, the formal elements are conservative as they come. The lead female character (Abigail Breslin as Priscilla) is wooden and static, occasionally lapsing into comatose trances when overwhelmed, and doesn't exactly disseminate a multidimensional presence. The people are capable of understanding Rango's idiosyncratic diction but they are still portrayed as foolish and inconsequential in their attempts to do so. Rango does possess an intriguing degree of self-awareness insofar as Rango is aware that he is on a peculiar quest that is being mythologized by a musical group of owls, and from time to time the film highlights its self-referentiality (ambiguously suggesting that Rango never left his aquarium). But at sundown, the quest and story are predominantly Rango's, not the people of Dirt's, even though Rango's purpose is to save the town and provide its inhabitants with a decent standard of living. More scenes showcasing the personalities of the townsfolk would have increased the democratic value of Rango's currency ten-fold.