Identity Theft in the Matrix

Something weird occurred on my TV when I happened to catch a few minutes of the Madrid Tennis Open on Sunday. Whatever technology these stadiums use to provide constantly changing television advertisements along the sides of the court wasn’t working too well. Some of the furniture on the clay itself seemed to be dissociating on an atomic level. A chair looked as if it was disappearing in a shimmering blue cloud. It was like that moment in the movie The Matrix when the reality of the unreality becomes apparent to Neo – a house cat vanishes for a split second, then reappears.

The technical snafu made the match pretty hard to watch, so I reverted to the New York Times, where columnist Thomas Friedman happened to be expressing astonishment at the profound influence of corporate marketing values on American society. Few have written more enthusiastically about the spread of capitalism worldwide than Friedman, so it was surprising to hear him say he “had no idea” that famous authors, revered sports players and even public institutions have all bartered their identities for corporate cash.

Just then, Roger Federer won the match. “Watch this,” my wife said in a moment.  “He’s going to reach into his gym bag and pull out an expensive watch, so he’s wearing it when he gets the award.” Sure enough, with a bemused grin – I took it to be a guilty “ok, I have to do this” sort of look – Federer theatrically slipped his sweaty hand into the bag and slowly pulled out a gleaming Rolex, which he then slid onto his wrist.

I’m no slouch when it comes to tracking the commodification of our culture – a Ralph Nader spin-off, Commercial Alert, has been quietly raising the issue for years – but I’d never witnessed someone of Federer’s stature actually engage in a corporate sponsorship ritual, one which happens to be well known to tennis fans.

The impact of celebrity endorsements and the promotion of products in TV shows and films is more than just an idle curiosity. For many years, Americans were urged to close the gap between the lifestyle they aspired to – as displayed in the entertainment media – and the economic reality of their lives by borrowing on their homes and credit cards. This masked a gaping and painfully growing chasm that is now the topic of conversation only because Wall Street flushed the toilet on our economy a few years back.  Where once you too might have been able to pull a beautiful watch out of your duffel courtesy of a JP Morgan Chase credit card, that’s no longer possible for many.

Even more insidious than dictating our personal dreams and values is the corporate capture of our political identities. In that sense, the United States Supreme Court’s infamous decision in Citizens United symbolically acknowledges what had long ago become the Golden Rule of American democracy: those who have the gold, rule. By bestowing human rights upon corporate entities, and equating spending money to buy elections with freedom of speech, Citizens United locked in a system of legalized bribery that locks most Americans out of the electoral process that is our birthright.

Sure, we still have the right to vote. But the choices we are offered are usually determined by a political establishment mostly dominated by corporate money and a vast apparatus of election consultants, public relations hacks and lobbyists.

Every corporate dollar spent on candidates and elections pays an enormous return on the investment.  The Money Industry gave $5 billion to federal officials in the ten years leading up to the 2008 financial debacle, as we documentedin 2009 (PDF). The result: “bipartisan” decisions by lawmakers and the executive branch stripping away decades of legislation designed to protect America against lunatic speculation. Liberated, Wall Street gambled till it lost everything. Cost to American taxpayers: hundreds of trillions of dollars in bailouts, lost jobs, battered businesses, devastated communities – a Depression. Heads they win, tales you lose.

A recent study by academics at the University of Kansas examined how a particular federal tax break for multinational corporations became law, and what happened after that. They calculated that for every $1 spent on lobbying in favor of the tax break, the companies were spared $220 in taxes – a return of 22,000%.

Last week’s revelation that JP Morgan Chase had lost $2 billion through trading practices that are supposed to be illegal under the financial reform law passed by Congress in 2010 begged the question: how did they get away with it? Answer: JP Morgan Chase spent millions on lobbyists whose job was to weaken the law, and delay its implementation. The current draft of the federal regulations required to enforce a key provision of the law is a 298-page monstrosity; thanks to JP Morgan’s lawyers, it’s loaded with political booby traps and sabotaging IEDs that will utterly neuter the law, if it ever takes effect.

Mission accomplished.

With staggering results like these, it’s no wonder that the corruption of American politics is now an industry itself. The Times estimates its size at $6 billion a year, and reports that a series of mergers and acquisitions is creating a corporate lobbying conglomerate where the best and brightest – including retiring members of Congress – alight.

This is the Invisible Government that used to be the topic of novelists and conspiracy theorists. In the celebrity-driven entertainment Matrix, it’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking around and wondering what’s going on.

 

Break of Day

Last August, right-wing television host Glenn Beck made a bizarre attempt to hijack the spirit of Martin Luther King’s 1963 Freedom March with his own manipulative March on Washington.

Millions of Americans wrung their hands in despair as Beck and his colleagues from Fox News and the Tea Party stood on what was deemed sacred ground and dominated the political discourse, while our own leaders failed to respond to the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression or to hold Wall Street accountable for causing it.

Then last fall, the Occupy Wall Street movement arrived.

Although the media tried to ignore them and then proceeded to belittle them, Occupiers tapped into a deep-seated longing, capturing the public imagination with their 21st century take on King’s message: overcome despair, shame and division; organize and dare to imagine; and fight nonviolently for a better society for everyone.

We don’t need a séance to know that for Martin Luther King, the notion that our government would dare to characterize the economy as “in recovery” while black unemployment remains nearly twice the national average would be an outrage, not a footnote.

Unlike the Tea Party, Occupy has avoided electoral politics, preferring to focus, as King did, on empowering the powerless through direct action on the streets. And while some have criticized Occupy for not delivering a more focused message, the Occupiers have clearly picked up the spiritual aspect of King’s call to action, posing profound questions about the kind of society we have become and what kind of society we want to be.

Occupy’s debt to King's non-violence is direct: In Los Angeles, activists are integrating techniques developed in the antinuclear and anti-globalization movements with the techniques taught at free monthly classes with the Reverend James Lawson, one of the men who guided King and taught him about Mahatma Gandhi’s nonviolence strategy.

During the last year of King’s life, he expanded the focus of his actions and goals beyond African-American civil rights to building an all-encompassing movement to challenge U.S. militarism and poverty. His last appearance in Memphis was in support of a strike by sanitation workers, opening his arms wide to embrace the cause of what Occupy has forever branded “the 99 percent.”

Beck’s travesty in Washington hit rock bottom for those of us who have been observing and decrying a system that seems designed to benefit those whose values preclude equality and fairness. The assault on the middle class in our country has been brutal. There was—during those dark August days—no loud voice, outside the rarified world of blogs and op-ed pages, crying out in moral outrage.

In September, a small band set up camp in Zuccotti Square. Since that time, the Occupy Wall Street movement has ignited those cries, on the streets and from a growing number of pulpits nationwide.

These are the spirits that endure and the ties that bind.

For me and for many others, embracing the Occupy movement posed a challenge. As a long-time journalist, I’ve had to find a new kind of voice. Like so many friends and colleagues who had lost faith that we would ever be heard, I’ve had to overcome fear and cynicism, learn to act more boldly, engage more creatively.

The memory of the Reverend Martin Luther King reminds us that whatever our obstacles, we need to link arms and learn to put one foot in front of the other, keeping our eyes on the prize, a prize that belongs to all of us.

Taking Aim at Wall Street - With Jack Bauer

After a day consumed with the Goldman-Sachs hearings, last night I caught up with the latest installment of  the television show “24.”

Spoiler alert: I’m going to disclose what’s happening in “24, ” which focuses on the life of a mythical high-level super antiterrorism agent, Jack Bauer, who is pitted constantly and single-handedly not only against the wily, relentless terrorists but against the corrupt and inept politicians and government officials who are his bosses, usually at the same time.

I don’t always agree with the politics of “24.” But I find it insanely entertaining and profoundly troubling. It’s also one of the few public entertainments that confronts directly the issues of authority and morality we’ve been grappling with since 9/11.

In the latest episode, Bauer actually goes against his president, to whom he’s previously shown the utmost loyalty, because he finds out she’s covering up evidence of an assassination. She’s doing it for the greater good of course; to promote a fragile Middle East peace agreement.

At some point, Bauer finds that the principle of accountability is stronger than his ingrained loyalty to his president.

Accountability, Bauer says, is so fundamental to democracy that it cannot be compromised.

When one of his former colleagues, now his new boss, hears what he’s scheming, she cautions him not to go against his president. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she says.

“I’m the only one who’s thinking clearly,” Bauer shoots back.

After a day of watching Goldman’s officials studiously avoid answering questions in the Senate, “24” put a grim exclamation point on one of the most infuriating aspects of the financial crisis: the utter lack of accountability the financial industry has borne for how it wrecked our economy, through fraud, ineptitude, greed and recklessness.

The Obama administration has made clear it’s not interested in punishing bankers: for the greater good of repairing  the economy, we’re told,  we don’t want to look backward too closely.  We need to move forward.

Left unspoken are the millions in contributions that Wall Street has lavished on the Democrats, and the web of interconnections between the administration and the financial industry, most notably Goldman-Sachs.

We’re offered the faux accountability in the emotionally gratifying theater of the Senate Goldman hearings, the SEC’s attempt at reviving its abysmal reputation after missing the Madoff and Stanford massive fraud schemes by suing Goldman for fraud, and the limp, clumsy Financial Inquiry Commission led by Phil Angelides.

Which are fine as far  as they go. I hope they provide some impetus to put real muscle into financial reform, and they serve some purpose in reminding people how angry and ripped off they feel.

But let’s not forget they’re mostly theater. For example, the Republican senators took turns with their Democratic colleagues beating up on Goldman for CSPAN, while outside of camera range they get their Wall Street fundraising mojo back.

One of the sharpest critics of the lack of accountability has been Bill Black, a former bank regulator during the S&L crisis, who emphasizes that it was multiple robust criminal investigations that uncovered the widespread wrong-doing at the heart of that financial meltdown.

One official who gets it is Neil Barofsky, the special inspector general for the Troubled Asset Relief Program, aka the bailout, who has raised the possibility of criminal investigations and tangled with the Treasury Department.

Meanwhile the mainstream media  serves up pap about how the mild financial reform proposed by the Obama administration is “the biggest overhaul of the nation’s financial system since the Great Depression.”

That’s just not true. The largest overhaul of the system would be the 1999 repeal of the Depression-era Glass-Steagall Act, which had kept federally guaranteed traditional banking from riskier casino-style gambling activities which banks found fabulously lucrative before they blew up the economy. The current reform proposals contain nothing as earth-shattering as that.

Despite happy talk of an economic recovery  that still looks far off to many on Main Street, the politicians are finding the public’s outrage over their handling of the financial crisis is not abating, fueled in part by the political grandstanding.

Like Jack Bauer, we’ve had it with the corruption and the blundering. Public outrage over Sen. Chris Dodd’s close ties to subprime cronies forced him to retire. Conservative Democratic Senator Blanche Lincoln, facing a tough reelection battle, wrote a tough bill that would regulate toxic derivatives. Then she was forced to give away  her Goldman-Sachs campaign contributions. On Tuesday, 62 members of Congress wrote a letter demanding that the Justice Department, not just the SEC, investigate Goldman-Sachs. And a handful of senators are preparing amendments that would toughen financial reform.

I know “24” is a fantasy but one of the reasons it’s so compelling is the way it embodies and scrambles the desperation of our current moment, and Jack Bauer, armed to the teeth in a stolen helicopter, touched a nerve this week. Accountability is our most important arsenal.