Red Flags is Novara Media’s advice column for anti-capitalists. Inspired by our columnist Sophie K Rosa’s book, Radical Intimacy, Red Flags explores how capitalism fucks up our intimate lives – not just our romantic relationships, but also our friendships, home lives, family ties, and experiences of death and dying – and what we can do about it. To submit a question to Sophie, email [email protected] or, if you’d like more anonymity, fill out this form.
I find myself in a corporate environment that feels increasingly suffocating, and my long-held anti-capitalist beliefs have transformed into a deep-seated hatred and rage. At just 23 years old, I’m stuck in a situation where I need to earn money, but the reality of my job is becoming unbearable. The long hours are exhausting, the treatment I receive dehumanising. It’s hard for me to accept that this is what life has become for so many of us.
I often wonder how others manage to endure such harsh conditions. I’m aware that my situation is better compared to many other workers, which adds another layer of complexity to my feelings. I recognise my privilege, but even so: are we all destined to be victims of this relentless system? Is there a way to break free from the cycle of exploitation, or are we simply trapped in a web of economic necessity and corporate greed?
The choice between needing to survive in a capitalist society and holding on to my principles feels increasingly unresolvable. I know I’m not alone in this fight – many people grapple with similar frustrations and aspirations for change. It’s disheartening to see that even those of us who are more privileged still feel the weight of systemic oppression. The reality is that the desire for a more humane and equitable existence is stronger than ever, and it begs the question of how we can collectively challenge the structures that perpetuate these conditions.
– Corporate Cog
Dear Corporate Cog,
Maybe all of us should commiserate each other more about the everyday inhumanity of capitalism, to which we have grown overly accustomed. As you note, much of the indignity of capitalism entails weighing up its evils against the alternative: doing soul-destroying work and being able to pay for vital things is generally considered luckier than having no work and living in poverty. But still, I am sorry your job is taking it out of you – I wonder what “it” is, for you?
Your question brought the “serenity prayer” to mind: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
You write that your job is “becoming unbearable” and that it is “hard for [you] to accept that this is what life has become for so many of us”. Life under capitalism fills you with anger – why not change your relationship with it? And yet capitalism itself does not fit neatly into the category of “things we can change” – though it is not always easy in our political movements to admit this.
And besides, capitalism is the air we breathe – if we were to resist every aspect of it, we’d suffocate. In trying to get by, we all make compromises with the system; this is true even for the most driven revolutionary. This might mean doing a job that does not fully align with our values, behaving or living in ways we ideally wouldn’t want to – if only we lived in a different kind of society.
Even for those of us who consciously want to, the idea of changing, let alone abolishing, the capitalist system can feel nebulous. We can hate capitalism with every ounce of our being whilst not seeing a way out. Indeed, the sensation you describe of being trapped in capitalist logic might be at the heart of our suffering. Realising we have limited agency is a tough pill to swallow. Not realising it is tougher.
Is there a way to break free? you ask. The common leftist prescription for feelings such as yours is: revolution, now! This remedy often has a side-effect of cognitive dissonance – the experience of holding conflicting beliefs at once. But we can ardently want revolution without really believing it is an immediate possibility, or something that happens all at once. To what extent does one need to believe such a revolution is possible to be comforted by its possibility? To what extent does one need to believe in it to fight for it? How much hope do we need – can we really expect to have – to endure our present conditions whilst taking action to change them?
There is no one answer, of course – but I do think, in a world that demands self-distortion, it is important that we attempt to be honest with ourselves, at least. It is okay to feel despair, to not know how to effect change. Rage can fuel revolutionary action – but it can also leave us feeling frozen, exhausted and defeated. As Hannah Proctor writes in Burnout: The Emotional Experience of Political Defeat:
Psychological experiences require patience while so much in the world demands urgency. The problem with anti-adaptive healing is that it is necessarily asynchronous: to get better in the present it is necessary to change so many things in the world. And the problem with that is that by the time it’s done it will already be too late.
I wonder about your relationship with hope; you want things to be different, but it seems your hope is wavering, at least. In circumstances such as ours, Proctor argues that hope cannot be a precondition for action. It might be enough to simply know that we are still here, alive, in a world where things could be otherwise: “Our minds (and bodies) may be in hellish conditions, but they’re nevertheless on the earth, where things can still be organised differently.”
You are experiencing a conflict between your principles and the survival requirements of capitalism. You are not alone in this. You know revolutionary fervour abounds, and ask how it can be harnessed towards effective action. In myriad ways! Such as by organising a strike, a boycott, an occupation or protest – or by simply participating in these things. Sometimes these actions will work, and you might experience joy or relief – and sometimes you will need to admit defeat, though hopefully never permanently. It could be encouraging to learn more about the ways – small and large – that people are resisting oppression every day. What kinds of resistance set your heart on fire?
Could taking action on the issues that beleaguer you help foster a sense of agency? Have you spoken to your colleagues – assuming this is possible – about your working conditions? Can you resist together? If you are not already in one, join a union and become an active member.
Once again, commiserations on life under capitalism. At least, as you know, whilst we’re in it differently, we’re in it together. There’s everything to fight for – so much so it can feel impossible to know where to begin. How about with a prayer? God, give me the serenity to enjoy my life under its present conditions; the courage to change the things I must; and the wisdom to know that this means changing everything.
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Sophie K Rosa is a freelance journalist and the author of Radical Intimacy.