The Mindless Dissonance of Modernity

Part 2 – The Lie of Egalitarianism and Empowerment

M. D. Kwak

A DALIT HINDU IN 1851 INDIA or a mine worker in 1789 London would have experienced a level of hardship unimaginable to many in the Western world today. Their lives were dictated by that of hierarchy, religion and the state which often justified and structurally reinforced gross inequality instead of combating it. However, the way they perceived their experiences were vastly different from the modern individual. Egalitarianism and individual empowerment were not promised and as such, the very idea of self autonomy became linked to bold revolution instead of intrinsic rights. Still, societal narratives espoused by hierarchical and oppressive institutions, tended to reflect their real experiences – however grim they were.

In comparison, the modern individual enjoys a better quality of life. Yet, they are told a lie that all people will be treated equally, that everyone has the power to self-determine and change their condition. Promises of equality and autonomy are beautiful yet reality is not – hence they are beautiful but dangerous lies. The Industrial Revolution began unprecedented levels of economic growth, technological innovation and social development – in the 1800s, it was the West, in the 1900s it was Asia and Latin America. Land was no longer the only source of wealth – the gentry’s power had diluted ever so slightly. In 19th century Britain, manufacturing textiles and trading cash crops like sugar and cotton were new ways to attain wealth – as were plunder and colonial exploitation.

In 1820, 94% of humans had a daily income less than $2 – a standard of extreme poverty by today’s standards. Over the next 200 years, extreme poverty fell dramatically; now only 8.6 % live on less than $1.90 a day (World Bank 2018). Undoubtedly, this economic growth was huge and translated to equality, and increased democratic and social rights. Groups like labour unions were key in redistributing income and campaigning for workers rights while civil rights for minority groups came at unprecedented speeds. Real wages and life expectancy increased drastically, as did educational opportunity and health quality for a swelling middle class – a concept only really made possible by modernisation.

The intellectual and socioeconomic empowerment of the previously-disenfranchised drove democratisation and birthed the creation of modern narratives. These narratives resonated with a sense of hope; they promised equality for the vulnerable and demanded the dignity of autonomy for the powerless. Empowerment of the everyday man meant that radicals like Marx and philosophers like Mill had the liberty, inspiration and popular support to dream of a better human condition.

Politicians and rulers, now needing the democratic support of the working class to preserve their power, found progressive political promises the easiest to appeal to. It manifested in the liberal wave of 19th century Europe, embodied by the Founding Fathers of the United States and fuelled Marxist revolutions and anti-colonial struggles for sovereignty and equality. In modern politics, it’s found in Obama’s “Yes we Can” or Albanese’s “A Better Future”, even Trump’s populism “Make America Great Again”.

Principles of equality and empowerment remain intuitive and appealing goals to aim for. Yet in a world where inequality, poverty and oppression still exist, these promises may ring as mere lies. These lies aren’t the fault of activists like Martin Luther King Jr. who point to the inadequacy of the status quo and demand the freedom and equality they deserve. Rather, it’s caused by the manipulative lies spun by governments and media to harvest the political support of the middle class and consolidate their own power. After projecting visions of equality which exploit the natural human desire to be treated fairly, it is the result of their failure to deliver on sensationalist overpromises they opt to churn out rather than the truth of dry pragmatism.

These lies can be explained by the fact that equality has not followed at the same rate as our economic expansion and we continue to live in a profoundly inequitable world in which the global top 1% hold nearly 50% of wealth. In many cases, equality and social rights have been actively deprioritised in favour of economic development. For example, in post-war South Korea, authoritarian governments often aided nepotistic corporations with favours and loose regulations in exchange for bribes. The 1988 Seoul Olympics symbolised the beginning of South Korea’s export-oriented economy – yet to preserve the nation’s image, vagrants were cleared off the streets, interned and murdered. South Korea’s rapid economic development has been called a miracle but not without growing inequality concerns. Samsung alone makes up 20% of the nation’s GDP and has politicians in its back pocket all while boasting a host of ultra-rich ‘chaebol’ family members, far detached from the average citizen.

The lack of equality reflects a world that is not good enough and is far too slow to change. And although we enjoy greater equality than our historical counterparts, many still viscerally feel and suffer from the vast inequality of the world. This is because humans compare their experiences not retrospectively to history but against their present surroundings. We compare our 9-5 jobs against billionaires and social media influencers – not against Roman peasants. Juxtaposed to sociopolitical narratives that promise an equalised and free utopia, we feel disenfranchised and hopeless and poor. A 2007 study (using data from the World Mental Health Survey Initiative) was able to link a country’s Gini coefficient (which measures income inequality) to a higher lifetime risk of a mood disorder. This correlation became statistically significant in the context of developed countries. This is crucial as according to Wilkinson (2009), inequality has risen in modernised countries, and unequal societies tend to have lower overall health and higher levels of social distrust, competition, and status anxiety. Thus statistical evidence seems to suggest inequality is not only correlated with high rates of mental health problems but is a direct caustic factor. This makes sense – inequality and disenfranchisement create a desperate struggle to outcompete the ‘other’ and come with the stress of trying to elevate oneself in the hierarchy against all odds. Obviously, people would get angry, frustrated and depressed when they live in poverty and lack social mobility, whilst the privileged continue to self-delude and pretend they live in an equal world.

The digital age has also created a problematic culture of comparison and ‘FOMO’. Unending and unrealistic glimpses into the lives of others perpetually reminds many of what they perceive to be the mediocrity and unfairness of their own, ‘unhappy’ lives. Yet the upsides of a connected globalised world is the streamlining of discourse and opening up of conversations surrounding mental health. More information is more harmful information, more misinformation, and yet it is also more awareness – and cultivating that awareness into meaningful discussion, tangible policy and cultural shifts are key for unravelling the lie.