The Rational Optimist_ How Prosperity Evolves - Matt Ridley [47]
If trust makes markets work, can markets generate trust?
A successful transaction between two people – a sale and purchase – should benefit both. If it benefits one and not the other, it is exploitation, and it does nothing to raise the standard of living. The history of human prosperity, as Robert Wright has argued, lies in the repeated discovery of non-zero-sum bargains that benefit both sides. Like Portia’s mercy in The Merchant of Venice, exchange is ‘twice blest: it blesseth him that gives and him that takes.’ That’s the Indian rope trick by which the world gets rich. Yet it takes only a few sidelong glances at your fellow human beings to realise that remarkably few people think this way. Zero-sum thinking dominates the popular discourse, whether in debates about trade or in complaints about service providers. You just don’t hear people coming out of shops saying, ‘I got a great bargain, but don’t worry, I paid enough to be sure that the shopkeeper feeds his family, too.’ Michael Shermer thinks that is because most of the Stone Age transactions rarely benefited both sides: ‘during our evolutionary tenure, we lived in a zero-sum (win-lose world), in which one person’s gain meant another person’s loss’.
This is a shame, because the zero-sum mistake was what made so many -isms of past centuries so wrong. Mercantilism said that exports made you rich and imports made you poor, a fallacy mocked by Adam Smith when he pointed out that Britain selling durable hardware to France in exchange for perishable wine was a missed opportunity to achieve the ‘incredible aug mentation of the pots and pans of the country’. Marxism said that capitalists got rich because workers got poor, another fallacy. In the film Wall Street, the fictional Gordon Gekko not only says that greed is good; he also adds that it’s a zero-sum game where somebody wins and somebody loses. He is not necessarily wrong about some speculative markets in capital and in assets, but he is about markets in goods and services. The notion of synergy, of both sides benefiting, just does not seem to come naturally to people. If sympathy is instinctive, synergy is not.
For most people, therefore, the market does not feel like a virtuous place. It feels like an arena in which the consumer does battle with the producer to see who can win. Long before the credit crunch of 2008 most people saw capitalism (and therefore the market) as necessary evils, rather than inherent goods. It is almost an axiom of modern debate that free exchange encourages and demands selfishness, whereas people were kinder and gentler before their lives were commercialised, that putting a price on everything has fragmented society and cheapened souls. Perhaps this lies behind the extraordinarily widespread view that commerce is immoral, lucre filthy and that modern people are good despite being enmeshed in markets rather than because of it – a view that can be heard from almost any Anglican pulpit at any time. ‘Marx long ago observed the way in which unbridled capitalism became a kind of mythology, ascribing reality, power and agency to things that had no life in themselves,’ said the Archbishop of Canterbury in 2008.
Like biological evolution, the market is a bottom-up world with nobody in charge. As the Australian economist Peter Saunders argues, ‘Nobody planned the global capitalist system, nobody runs it, and nobody really comprehends it. This particularly offends intellectuals, for capitalism renders them redundant. It gets on perfectly well without them.’ There is nothing new about this. The intelligentsia has