Given all of the clamouring about taxations and abolishing the Internal Revenue Service, affectionately known as the IRS. In Britain, one may be more aware of His Majesty’s Revenue and Customs (HMRC). In France, it’s Direction générale des Finances publiques (DGFiP).
Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic.
Given how up in arms the reincarnation of the NAZI party, disfectionately known as Republicans (or Republican’ts depending on your mood or persuasion), have been towards the IRS and taxation in general – they love to cosplay tossing crates of tea into harbours – I asked ChatGPT to clarify the originals of income taxes in the United States.
For the benefit of more casual readers, income taxes were unconstitutional – illegal – until 1913. These were snuck in under the guise of only applying to the wealthy, the 1% of the time. But once the floodgates were opened, the focus shifted to the 95%, increasingly exempting the wealthy. Even so, they still complain and evade.
Enough wittering. Here’s what ChatGPT had to say on the matter.
The Republican Party — yes, that bastion of “limited government” and “individual liberty” — was the main political force that promoted and passed the constitutional income tax that became the 16th Amendment.
To sprinkle a little more salt into the irony wound: it was under President William Howard Taft, a Republican, that the push for a constitutional amendment authorising federal income taxes really gained momentum. Congress proposed the 16th Amendment in 1909 (during Taft’s administration), and it was ratified by the states in 1913 — just in time for the modern federal leviathan to roll up its sleeves and plunge its greasy hands into everyone’s pockets.
Now, to be fair (or at least historically accurate), Taft and the Republicans framed it as a political counterattack against the Democrats’ attempts to impose income taxes via ordinary legislation — taxes which had been previously struck down by the Supreme Court in Pollock v. Farmers’ Loan & Trust Co. (1895). The amendment was sold as a “clarification” of federal powers. Think of it as constitutional tax laundering: put the amendment through, and voilà, what was once forbidden now becomes nobly sanctioned.
So yes — the same Republican Party that today wails about taxation like it’s the herald of the apocalypse, once upon a time delivered the federal income tax into America’s cradle. Swaddled it. Rocked it to sleep. Burped it.
—or—How the Invisible Hand Became a Throttling Grip on the Throat of the Biosphere
As many frequent visitors know, I am a recovering economist. I tend to view economics through a philosophical lens. Here. I consider the daft nonsense of Pareto optimality.
Audio: NotebookLM podcast of this content.
There is a priesthood in modern economics—pious in its equations, devout in its dispassion—that gathers daily to prostrate before the altar of Pareto. Here, in this sanctum of spreadsheet mysticism, it is dogma that an outcome is “optimal” so long as no one is worse off. Never mind if half the world begins in a ditch and the other half in a penthouse jacuzzi. So long as no one’s Jacuzzi is repossessed, the system is just. Hallelujah.
This cult of cleanliness, cloaked in the language of “efficiency,” performs a marvellous sleight of hand: it transforms systemic injustice into mathematical neutrality. The child working in the lithium mines of the Congo is not “harmed”—she simply doesn’t exist in the model. Her labour is an externality. Her future, an asterisk. Her biosphere, a rounding error in the grand pursuit of equilibrium.
Let us be clear: this is not science. This is not even ideology. It is theology—an abstract faith-based system garlanded with numbers. And like all good religions, it guards its axioms with fire and brimstone. Question the model? Heretic. Suggest the biosphere might matter? Luddite. Propose redistribution? Marxist. There is no room in this holy order for nuance. Only graphs and gospel.
Jevons warned us…that improvements in efficiency could increase, not reduce, resource consumption.
The rot runs deep. William Stanley Jevons—yes, that Jevons, patron saint of unintended consequences—warned us as early as 1865 that improvements in efficiency could increase, not reduce, resource consumption. But his paradox, like Cassandra’s prophecy, was fated to be ignored. Instead, we built a civilisation on the back of the very logic he warned would destroy it.
Then came Simon Kuznets, who—bless his empirically addled soul—crafted a curve that seemed to promise that inequality would fix itself if we just waited politely. We called it the Kuznets Curve and waved it about like a talisman against the ravages of industrial capitalism, ignoring the empirical wreckage that piled up beneath it like bones in a trench.
Meanwhile, Pareto himself, that nobleman of social Darwinism, famously calculated that 80% of Italy’s land was owned by 20% of its people—and rather than challenge this grotesque asymmetry, he chose to marvel at its elegance. Economics took this insight and said: “Yes, more of this, please.”
And so the model persisted—narrow, bloodless, and exquisitely ill-suited to the world it presumed to explain. The economy, it turns out, is not a closed system of rational actors optimising utility. It is a planetary-scale thermodynamic engine fuelled by fossil sunlight, pumping entropy into the biosphere faster than it can absorb. But don’t expect to find that on the syllabus.
Mainstream economics has become a tragic farce, mouthing the language of optimisation while presiding over cascading system failure. Climate change? Not in the model. Biodiversity collapse? A regrettable externality. Intergenerational theft? Discounted at 3% annually.
We are witnessing a slow-motion suicide
We are witnessing a slow-motion suicide cloaked in the rhetoric of balance sheets. The Earth is on fire, and the economists are debating interest rates.
What we need is not reform, but exorcism. Burn the models. Salt the axioms. Replace this ossified pseudoscience with something fit for a living world—ecological economics, systems theory, post-growth thinking, anything with the courage to name what this discipline has long ignored: that there are limits, and we are smashing into them at speed.
History will not be kind to this priesthood of polite annihilation. Nor should it be.
In an idealised vision of science, the laboratory is a hallowed space of discovery and intellectual rigour, where scientists chase insights that reshape the world. Yet, in a reflection as candid as it is disconcerting, Sabine Hossenfelder pulls back the curtain on a reality few outside academia ever glimpse. She reveals an industry often more concerned with securing grants and maintaining institutional structures than with the philosophical ideals of knowledge and truth. In her journey from academic scientist to science communicator, Hossenfelder confronts the limitations imposed on those who dare to challenge the mainstream — a dilemma that raises fundamental questions about the relationship between truth, knowledge, and institutional power.
I’ve also created a podcast to discuss Sabine’s topic. Part 2 is also available.
Institutionalised Knowledge: A Double-Edged Sword
The history of science is often framed as a relentless quest for truth, independent of cultural or economic pressures. But as science became more institutionalised, a paradox emerged. On the one hand, large academic structures offer resources, collaboration, and legitimacy, enabling ambitious research to flourish. On the other, they impose constraints, creating an ecosystem where institutional priorities — often financial — can easily overshadow intellectual integrity. The grant-based funding system, which prioritises projects likely to yield quick results or conform to popular trends, inherently discourages research that is too risky or “edgy.” Thus, scientific inquiry can become a compromise, a performance in which scientists must balance their pursuit of truth with the practicalities of securing their positions within the system.
Hossenfelder’s account reveals the philosophical implications of this arrangement: by steering researchers toward commercially viable or “safe” topics, institutions reshape not just what knowledge is pursued but also how knowledge itself is conceptualised. A system prioritising funding over foundational curiosity risks constraining science to shallow waters, where safe, incremental advances take precedence over paradigm-shifting discoveries.
Gender, Equity, and the Paradoxes of Representation
Hossenfelder’s experience with gender-based bias in her early career unveils a further paradox of institutional science. Being advised to apply for scholarships specifically for women, rather than being offered a job outright, reinforced a stereotype that women in science might be less capable or less deserving of direct support. Though well-intentioned, such programs can perpetuate inequality by distinguishing between “real” hires and “funded outsiders.” For Hossenfelder, this distinction created a unique strain on her identity as a scientist, leaving her caught between competing narratives: one of hard-earned expertise and one of institutionalised otherness.
The implications of this dilemma are profound. Philosophically, they touch on questions of identity and value: How does an individual scientist maintain a sense of purpose when confronted with systems that, however subtly, diminish their role or undercut their value? And how might institutional structures evolve to genuinely support underrepresented groups without reinforcing the very prejudices they seek to dismantle?
The Paper Mill and the Pursuit of Legacy
Another powerful critique in Hossenfelder’s reflection is her insight into academia as a “paper production machine.” In this system, academics are pushed to publish continuously, often at the expense of quality or depth, to secure their standing and secure further funding. This structure, which rewards volume over insight, distorts the very foundation of scientific inquiry. A paper may become less a beacon of truth and more a token in an endless cycle of academic currency.
This pursuit of constant output reveals the philosopher’s age-old tension between legacy and ephemerality. In a system driven by constant publication, scientific “advancements” are at risk of being rendered meaningless, subsumed by an industry that prizes short-term gains over enduring impact. For scientists like Hossenfelder, this treadmill of productivity diminishes the romantic notion of a career in science. It highlights a contemporary existential question: Can a career built on constant output yield a genuine legacy, or does it risk becoming mere noise in an endless stream of data?
Leaving the Ivory Tower: Science Communication and the Ethics of Accessibility
Hossenfelder’s decision to leave academia for science communication raises a question central to contemporary philosophy: What is the ethical responsibility of a scientist to the public? When institutional science falters in its pursuit of truth, perhaps scientists have a duty to step beyond its walls and speak directly to the public. In her pivot to YouTube, Hossenfelder finds a new audience, one driven not by academic pressures but by genuine curiosity.
This shift embodies a broader rethinking of what it means to be a scientist today. Rather than publishing in academic journals read by a narrow circle of peers, Hossenfelder now shares her insights with a public eager to understand the cosmos. It’s a move that redefines knowledge dissemination, making science a dialogue rather than an insular monologue. Philosophically, her journey suggests that in an age where institutions may constrain truth, the public sphere might become a more authentic arena for its pursuit.
Conclusion: A New Paradigm for Scientific Integrity
Hossenfelder’s reflections are not merely the story of a disillusioned scientist; they are a call to re-evaluate the structures that define modern science. Her journey underscores the need for institutional reform — not only to allow for freer intellectual exploration but also to foster a science that serves humanity rather than merely serving itself.
Ultimately, the scientist’s dilemma that Hossenfelder presents is a philosophical one: How does one remain true to the quest for knowledge in an age of institutional compromise? As she shares her story, she opens the door to a conversation that transcends science itself, calling us all to consider what it means to seek truth in a world that may have forgotten its value. Her insights remind us that the pursuit of knowledge, while often fraught, is ultimately a deeply personal, ethical journey, one that extends beyond the walls of academia into the broader, often messier realm of human understanding.
In my research for my current project, I’ve turned up a lot of information and many memes. In this case, the victim is justice to the perpetrator of money, but it might just as well be democracy.
Just a short post, so I have time to focus on writing my book.
Money is one of the most pervasive fictions in human society. Traditionally, it is thought that money evolved from barter systems, where goods and services were directly exchanged. However, anthropologist David Graeber, in his book “Debt: The First 5,000 Years” (2011), argues that this narrative is largely a myth. According to Graeber, there is little historical evidence to support the idea that societies primarily relied on barter before the advent of money. Instead, he suggests that credit systems were more prevalent, where people kept track of debts and credits in the absence of physical currency.
Graeber’s perspective challenges the conventional economic narrative by emphasizing the role of social relationships and trust in early economic transactions. Rather than evolving from barter to commodity money (like gold and silver coins) and then to fiat money, economies often operated on the basis of mutual obligations and social bonds long before the invention of physical currency. This underscores the idea that money, in all its forms, is a social construct—a fiction agreed upon by the members of a society.
Fiat money, which is currency that a government has declared to be legal tender but is not backed by a physical commodity, relies entirely on trust and belief in its value rather than any intrinsic worth. Its value comes from the collective agreement that money can be used for transactions, illustrating how deeply embedded fictions can shape our economic reality.
Economies as Constructs
Economies, much like money, are constructed systems designed to organize and facilitate the production, distribution, and consumption of goods and services. The idea of a market economy, where supply and demand determine prices and allocation of resources, is a theoretical construct that has been widely adopted and adapted across the globe. Economic theories and models, while rooted in empirical observations, are also shaped by human assumptions and values.
For example, capitalism, the dominant economic system in much of the world, is built on the principles of private property, free markets, and competition. These principles are human-made constructs that have been institutionalized through laws, regulations, and cultural norms. The notion of “economic growth” itself is a concept that has been prioritized and pursued, shaping policies and societal goals.
Implications of Economic Fictions
Understanding economies and money as fictions highlights their dependence on collective belief and participation. This perspective allows us to critically examine the assumptions underlying economic systems and consider alternative models. For instance, the rise of digital currencies like Bitcoin challenges traditional notions of money by introducing decentralized and peer-to-peer forms of exchange.
Moreover, recognizing the fictional nature of economies can lead to more flexible and adaptive economic policies. It encourages innovation and experimentation with new economic frameworks that may better address contemporary challenges such as inequality, environmental sustainability, and technological disruption.
By exploring the fictions of economies and money, we gain insight into the powerful influence of human-made constructs on our daily lives. This awareness can inspire us to question and potentially reshape these constructs to create more equitable and resilient economic systems for the future.
References
Graeber, David. Debt: The First 5,000 Years (2011).
Giddens, Anthony. The Consequences of Modernity (1990).
Beck, Ulrich. Cosmopolitan Vision (2006).
Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (1983).
Video: YouTube rendition of the content on this page.
Introduction
In our daily lives, we encounter numerous constructs that shape our understanding of the world. These constructs, though deeply ingrained in our societies, may be more fictional than factual. We accept the existence of nations, economies, money, and legal systems as fundamental aspects of our reality, yet these entities are human-made inventions. In this article, we will explore the notion that many of the pillars supporting our world are, in fact, fictions. By examining the nature of these fictions, we can better understand their impact on our lives and how they shape our perceptions and interactions.
Section 1: The Concept of Fiction
Definition of Fiction
Oxford Languages via Google defines fiction as:
fic·tion /ˈfɪkʃən/noun
literature in the form of prose that describes imaginary events and people.
something that is invented or untrue. “they were supposed to be keeping up the fiction that they were happily married“
Fiction, in its most common sense, refers to imaginative literature—stories created from the author’s mind, describing events and characters that do not exist in reality. However, fiction also encompasses broader definitions, including any invented or untrue concept. This dual definition highlights the versatility of fiction: it is not only the realm of novels and stories but also the domain of societal constructs and beliefs that, while not grounded in tangible reality, exert a powerful influence over our lives.
Examples of Fiction in Everyday Life
Fiction extends beyond the pages of a book or the scenes of a movie. It permeates various aspects of our everyday existence. For instance, consider the concept of a corporation. Legally, a corporation is an entity that possesses many of the rights and responsibilities of a person, yet it is not a physical being—it is a construct, a legal fiction, created to facilitate economic activities. Similarly, brands and trademarks are fictions designed to create distinct identities for products and services, influencing consumer behaviour and shaping market dynamics.
The significance of these fictions lies in their ability to organize and structure society. They provide frameworks within which we operate, enabling complex interactions and collaborations. However, it is crucial to recognize their invented nature, as this awareness allows us to question and, if necessary, reshape these constructs to better serve our collective needs.
By acknowledging the fictional basis of many societal elements, we can unravel the layers of assumptions and beliefs that underpin our reality. This understanding sets the stage for a deeper exploration of specific fictions—nations, economies, money, and legal systems—and their profound impact on our world.
Fast forward a century. The future’s looking back, not with nostalgia but with a critical eye. Will they see our age of capitalism as we see the era of slavery – a moral misstep, a societal blight?
2023: Here we are, knee-deep in capitalism. It’s everywhere, in every transaction, every ambition. But beneath the veneer of progress and prosperity, there’s a darker narrative unfolding.
Wage Slaves in a Modern World
Wage slavery is the reality for many in a capitalist system where survival hinges on selling labour. The concept? Simple yet brutal. People are chained not by physical shackles but by economic necessity, a cycle of paycheck-to-paycheck existence. It’s freedom, but only in the loosest sense.
The Surplus of Inequality
Wage surplus – the lifeblood of capitalism. The more you squeeze out of workers, the fatter the profits. It’s a game of numbers where human cost rarely figures. The working class toil, and the upper echelons reap the rewards. Sounds familiar? It’s a throwback to the days of slavery, just dressed in modern garb.
Capitalists’ Dark Fantasy
A state of slavery – every capitalist’s secret fantasy? Perhaps not all, but for the ruthless, it’s the ultimate dream. A world where workers are mere cogs in the machine, dispensable and replaceable. No rights, no voice, just endless labour for minimal reward.
The Capitalist Paradox
Here’s the paradox – capitalism, in theory, champions freedom and innovation. But in practice, it often veers towards oppression and exploitation. The gap between the haves and have-nots widens, and social mobility becomes a myth, reserved for fairy tales.
The Future’s Judgment
In 2123, will they shake their heads at our era? Will they wonder how we allowed economic systems to morph into modern-day slavery? How we sold our souls for the illusion of prosperity?
A Glimmer of Hope?
But the tide is turning. Voices of dissent are rising, challenging the status quo. The call for a fairer, more humane economic model grows louder. There’s hope yet that we’ll steer away from the shadow of capitalism’s excesses.
Conclusion
As the world spins on, we’re at a pivotal moment. Will we continue down this path, or will we pivot towards a more equitable future? The choices we make today will echo through the annals of history.
Call to Action
What’s your stance? Is capitalism veering too close to a modern form of slavery? Drop your thoughts below. Let’s ignite a dialogue.
A citizen of the Internet shared this as if were gospel along with this comment:
Late Professor Steven Horwitz expanding on a Misesian theme. Monetary profit helps allocate resources to higher valued uses. Elsewhere, Mises spoke of profit in a broader sense, “profit” being the goal of every action. In any case, those familiar with what pundits (from the left mostly) tend to say about “profit” may be completely surprised by this take, since it is so contrary to what they often read and hear.
Of course, these are vapid words and wishful thinking. How and why do profits signal that value has been created? I dunno. They just do cuz I said so. The only thing that profits signal is a market that doesn’t understand the true cost of production and consumers can’t be bothered to do it themselves. Mattresses and shaving razor blades are two high-margin consumer goods with mattresses yielding 500 per cent profits and razor blades even higher. These profits represent economic rent and not value. The fact that imperfect information shrouds this excess does not make it ‘value’.
Regarding the mortgage market meltdown of 2007-08, there were houses being built into a market with no buyers. The same ‘value’ being created was demonstrably vapour. Say’s Law was off-target again. Supply does not create its own demand.
Is it no wonder that so many Capitalists are also Protestant Christians who believe in Bible tales as well? Even worse are the Christians who are not Capitalists but are exploited by Capitalism the same way they are exploited by their religion. I guess once you’ve profiled the gullible, you might as well just keep exploiting them until there is nothing left to extract.
This is the caption on the sign for this segment. The sign advertises a solution, which is to “Vote for DEMOCROBOT… The first party run by artificial intelligence”. It also promises to “give everyone a living wage of £1436.78 a week”.
I have been very vocal that I find the idea of humans governing humans is a bad idea at the start. By and large, humans are abysmal system thinkers and easily get lost in complexity. This is why our governments and economies require so much external energy and course correction. Not only were they poorly designed and implemented, but they’re also trying to manage a dynamic system—a complex system. It won’t work.
What about bots and artificial intelligence? The above image was posted elsewhere, and a person commented that our governments are already filled with artificial intelligence. I argued that at best we’ve got pseudo-intelligence; at worse, we’ve got artificial pseudo-intelligence, API.
The challenge with AI is that it’s developed by humans with all of their faults and biases in-built.
The challenge with AI is that it’s developed by humans with all of their faults and biases in-built. On the upside, at least in theory, rules could be created to afford consistency and escape political theatre. The same could be extended to the justice system, but I’ll not range there.
Part of the challenge is that the AI needs to optimise several factors, at least, and not all factors are measurable or can be quantified. Any such attempt would tip the playing field one way or another. We might assume that at least AI would be unreceptive to lobbying and meddling, but would this be the case? AI—or rather ML, Machine Learning or DL, Deep Learning—rely on input. It wouldn’t take long for interested think tanks to flood the source of inputs with misinformation. And if there is an information curator, we’ve got a principle-agent problem—who’s watching the watcher?—, and we may need to invoke Jeremy Bentham’s Panopticon solution.
One might even argue that an open-source, independently audited system would work. Who would be auditing and whose interpretation and opinion would we trust? Then I think of Enron and Worldcom. Auditors paid to falsify their audit results. I’d also argue that this would cause a shift from the political class to the tech class, but the political class is already several tiers down and below the tech class, so the oligarchs still win.
This seems to be little more than a free-association rant, so I’ll pile on one more reflection. Google and Facebook (or Meta) have ethical governing bodies that are summarily shunned or simply ignored when they point out that the parent company is inherently unethical or immoral. I wouldn’t expect much difference here.
I need a bot to help write my posts. I’ll end here.
As a Social Justice Warrior, I tend to favour diversity and inclusion as a principle. As such, I follow some people who share this interest. In fact, most of these people expend much more energy toward this end than I do. The challenge I am about to convey is that some people don’t read beyond the subject line, and don’t even attempt to assess the underlying claim, let alone the issue at hand.
I recently engaged in a nonsensical interaction that I am sharing and dissecting. It started with this share, an image of the border outline of Nigeria with an overlay caption that reads: “Nigeria becomes the first country to ban white and British models in all advertising”.
I’d like to point out two items in particular. Firstly, the caption is fabricated. I’ll get to the source reference presently. Secondly, the re-poster aptly corrects the caption when he shared it—”Well, all foreign models, but HELL YEAH!”
Nigeria recently passes a law that essentially assesses a tariff or levy on advertising content using non-Nigerian talent. There is no mention of ‘white’ models, though British models would fall under this umbrella. This protectionist law stems from nationalism. I’d guess that ‘white’ people comprise less than one per cent of the Nigerian national population, but I could be wrong. This is well outside my area of expertise.
My response was to say “Down with Nationalism and the Promotion of Otherism.” I may be misinterpreting myself, but it feels to me that this is denouncing racism and other forms of otherness.
Sabrina responds, ‘Why is not having white models in advertising a bad thing?” and “Isn’t the whole point of advertising [for] people to…see themselves… ?” In response, I should have pointed out that the initiative had nothing to do with skin colour. Instead, I responded to the second question: the point of advertising is to sell product. Full stop. If people see themselves with the product, then great. Clearly, this comprises a fraction of successful adverts. More common is to make a connection to what they aspire to. It’s not about making a social statement—unless, of course, that social statement will sell more product. If an ad with a white model will sell more product, a business would be derelict not to employ one; conversely, if white models result in lower sales, a business would be foolish not to switch to the more successful vector.
Sabrina really goes off the reservation with her reply, somehow conflating Nigeria with the African continent. Attention to detail is not her forte.
At this point, I feed into her laziness and send her a link to an Al-Jazeera article addressing the law.
She leaves with a parting shot, and I quote: “Have you ever thought about the harm you might cause by playing devil’s advocate and “creating an argument”?”
She’s off course and then attempts to diminish my point by calling it ‘playing devil’s advocate’ rather than admitting that she hadn’t even considered the rationale and possible ramifications. She didn’t even grasp the main point, so I suppose I should forgive her for not noticing secondary and edge cases.
At this point, Dr Perkins adds her voice. Her initial question is valid, and as I responded, the answer is “No”. The race card was introduced by some narrator who didn’t know what game he was broadcasting. But then she goes on to “applaud Nigeria for making a [decision] centering [on] Blackness”, save to say that was not what prompted the decision.
Notice, too, that other people “Liked” the other comments, a testament to the principle of least effort of the bystanders, too.
I recognise that the original post anchored the conversation off the actual topic, but it was also very easy to track down the reference and note the content discrepancy. Granted, this takes time and effort, but so does responding on a thread and then escalating commitment to a non-cause. And for one tilting at windmills to be tossing around accusations of playing devil’s advocate. It’s not a good sign.
But wait, there’s more. I commented on this post on a second thread.
In this case, Dr Anderson suggests that this is just “a country celebrating its own citizens by recognizing their beauty and knowing they can move product just as good, and probably better than white women, to which I responded that this is a testable hypothesis. It’s either true that on balance white models sell more product or black models do. Again, don’t fail to miss the point that none of this is about white versus black models.
Somehow, LinkedIn can’t seem to keep their threads in order, but Ms Rice takes my hypothesis testing point as a support for racism before precipitating to full-on troll mode.
It scares me to see that there are two academic doctors participating in this thread, neither with a trait of attention to detail nor even a fundamental pursuit of evidence.
This is why it is difficult to engage with social media. You have no idea what level a commenter is coming in on. And even when spoon-fed information, they refuse to alter their position. In fact, they tend to double down on their wrongness. Moving on…
Philosophics 