March 2001

Views expressed are those of the authors, not necessarily of the AFSC.

Woolman and the Global Economy

David Morse is a member of Storrs, CT Friends Meeting and author of a novel, The Iron Bridge, about 18th century Quaker ironmasters. He can be contacted at www.david-morse.com. This article was extracted from a talk given before the All New Hampshire Gathering of Friends on January 20, 2001. A longer version is available as a pamphlet, "John Woolman and the Global Economy," which can be obtained from <neym@neym.org>

Why should Friends be concerned about the new global economy? Is it not something that is happening pretty much inevitably, a natural consequence of improved transportation and communication, and the expansion of transnational corporations? Does it not bring at least some small improvement to the world's poor? Will globalization not perhaps lead to a system of international governance that we have tried to foster for the better part of the twentieth century? In short, should we not welcome globalization?

"Listen." Stravinsky's Psalms in Montpelier, Bread & Puppet, Gover, VT 05839

In any case, who are we as Quakers, a tiny minority, to challenge it? These are questions that deserve study. I for one believe that Friends should and must challenge the globalized economy--because, at least as it is now being promulgated by governments in collusion with powerful corporations, it puts profits above everything else: human rights and health and culture, and the health of the planet. To the public, the movement toward a single global economy is portrayed as orderly, advantageous, and inevitable. We are assured that it is "the future," and that there is no resisting it. But in reality this so-called system has brought chaos in the lives of rural people worldwide and reintroduced to cities and factories a return to barbaric labor conditions that have been outlawed in industrialized countries for nearly a century.

I believe that if John Woolman were alive today, he would see this as the slave system it is. Woolman would pay little credence to the argument that "these people need jobs--any jobs." He would see it as a race toward the bottom.

Most of us are familiar with his story. Born in 1720 in New Jersey, Woolman experienced a crisis of conscience in his twenties when he was called upon to witness a bill of sale involving the purchase of another human being. He was so deeply troubled he vowed to never place himself in that position again, and began a lifelong ministry against slavery. During the decade that followed his act of refusal, Woolman perceived the world in increasing complexity. He saw that the exploitation in his own era went beyond the kidnapping of Africans that lay at its very heart, and beyond the slave-based plantation system of the South; it included New England textile merchants, manufacturers of chocolate candy, rum, and indigo dye, and the functionaries who supported the system. He understood that he himself was complicit, and that the task of rooting it out began first and foremost within his own heart and with his own actions. Only then did he preach to his fellow Quakers--some of whom owned slaves--all of whom were complicit, as he was. Today we are invited by the media and by advertising to throw up our hands at the complexity of the world and to evade our responsibility as moral beings. How do we avoid succumbing to this seeming choicelessness, in the glut of information and goods that bombard us? How do we recover the moral clarity of John Woolman?

First, we should recognize that the social controls surrounding us are nothing new. Historically, our country's newspapers and political establishments have joined to promote the status quo, as was the case in John Woolman's day, when slavery was part of the very air that people breathed.

We should also recognize the velocity of change in a hypercapitalistic world. Capital now moves across national borders electronically at an astronomical rate: foreign-exchange trading alone amounts to $1.2 trillion a day, dwarfing national economies. The American model of extreme, monopolistic capitalism is overwhelming traditional market capitalism across the globe. Textile factories and assembly plants can pick up and move at a moment's notice. Transnational corporations have become detached from national loyalties and communities, outside the reach of governments or labor unions. Michael Jordan is paid more by Nike than the entire Asian workforce engaged in shoe manufacture. Increasingly, civil authority has given way to corporate convenience. What can we do?

As a Quaker, with some firsthand knowledge of how slowly we necessarily proceed in our Quaker process, I ask myself whether our faith and practice can keep up with the velocity of change. Even those of us who read the back pages of the New York Times or The Economist, who subscribe to progressive journals, have difficulty keeping score on a company's performance as measured by environmental or human rights or labor concerns. What happens when that company is bought up by another? Most often we are left to choose in ignorance. The can of tuna that was once labeled dolphin-safe--following a decade-long consumer boycott of albacore and carefully arrived-at agreements with major packers--is it still dolphin-safe? The food product made with soybeans--are we even informed when a switch is made to a genetically engineered crop? The shoes made in China--were they stitched together by slave labor? Under the new rules, designed to "liberalize" trade, the World Trade Organization makes its rulings purely on the basis of trade--without consideration for environmental or human values or cultural preferences, all of which can be categorized as "non-tariff restraints of trade" and be the cause for heavy penalties. European objections to hormone-treated beef from big US beef producers fell into this category, as did Canadian efforts to bar suspected carcinogenic additives from imported gasoline.

Certainly, some international system is needed to oversee trade. But such a system should help bridge the gap between haves and have-nots; it should safeguard the environment, protect workers from the worst abuses, promote consumer safety--not exacerbate the world's injustices. A true system for arbitrating trade should reflect some degree of democratic governance, at least to the extent that the UN reflects (even with mixed success) the consensus of national governments. The present system, run by corporations, defiles us all. Having less and less basis for moral choice as consumers, we feel driven to make amoral choices. We know we are complicit, and this complicity becomes part of the inertia. This is the strongest argument I can think of against the much-touted "freedom" of the global economy. We should have the capacity as moral beings and as citizens to stop the corrupting flow of imported goods that exploit child labor or prop up dictatorships or defile the earth. We shouldn't have to make these choices solely in our role as consumers.

Like John Woolman, we can start the reform within ourselves. We can examine our own actions, and take what steps we can to reduce our complicity. But far more than in Woolman's day, the situation calls for collective action.

Within our own meetings, we can raise queries. We can educate ourselves about these issues. We can form study groups, sponsor debates, hold workshops, support each other's inquiry. With this base of knowledge, we can listen to the promptings of Spirit. And if we feel convinced, we can take action--individually, as John Woolman did, and collectively as well.

Quaker process is by its nature slow. But let us not think of ourselves as plodders. Let our silence be full. When it is time to act, let us act.

© David Morse 2001. All rights reserved. Fair use.

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