Unmerited Wealth, Righteous Losers

Standard

Most long for a world that conforms to their own idea of fairness and justice.  Shouldn’t a person get what they deserve?  And in the Bible there is a concept of reaping what we sow.  Call it karma.  Cause and effect.  The urge to explain the misfortune of others as their fault or our own fortune as the proof of our righteousness.  We feel punished when things don’t work out—and vindicated when they do.  But what if there is more randomness to outcomes than we imagine?

While the law of sowing and reaping should be applied—where hard work and the fruits of harvest are related—this understanding should also be counterbalanced.  Some get wealth by reaping what they did not sow as an inheritance or through theft.  Those who assign positive moral value to wealth miss this entirely.  This often becomes a excuse for lack of charity or even reason to further disenfranchise the disenfranchised.  Look at the caste system in Hindu India and “health and wealth” preaching of the false Prosperity Gospel.

Faces of those who got rich through exploitation

I’ve seen this in response to the flooding in Nepal, posts by suggesting that it is some kind of Divine punishment for the majority Hindu nation for persecution of Christians, which is strange given that victims are from multiple countries.  Funny how we never got that kind of interpretation of the destruction in Asheville and Swannanoa Valleys due to the rains from hurricane Helene.  We should probably work out some of these details of this before we assume anything, right?

Do good things happen to good people—bad things to bad?  

Is our good or bad fortune a matter of our deserving and merit?

Sometimes there are consequences for our actions—like when an algae bloom caused by your merciless bombing of a neighbor is now threatening your own water supply.  Yet the mistake is believing that every bad thing other people suffer is sowing and reaping—cause and effect.  Some reap what they did not sow, they have meritless wealth and the prosperity built from exploitation.  

First let’s take a look at what we can learn about the suffering of righteous people in Scripture—and then move on to the myth of meritocracy in American culture.

The Righteous Loser

There is something else meaningless that occurs on earth: the righteous who get what the wicked deserve, and the wicked who get what the righteous deserve. This too, I say, is meaningless.

(Ecclesiastes 8:14 NIV)

The above credited to Solomon, a wise king, who understood the good guys don’t always win.  He reverses the expected order, denies karma, and he tells us that indeed many bad things happen to good people and from our perspective evil wins.  

This same sentiment is captured elsewhere in Scripture, the apparent success of the wicked which nearly caused the faithful to stumble. In Psalms 73:2-12, the psalmist admits, “my feet had almost slipped; I had nearly lost my foothold. For I envied the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the wicked.” He describes how “They have no struggles; their bodies are healthy and strong” and remain “free from common human burdens,” while saying “pride is their necklace; they clothe themselves with violence.” From callous hearts they scoff and speak with malice, even claiming, “How would God know? Does the Most High know anything?”—all while they stay “always free of care” and “go on amassing wealth.” Such observations highlight the tension between the alarming prosperity of wicked and our belief that all people should get what they deserve.  The world doesn’t work according to our moral logic or narratives.

And it’s not only the wisdom of the Psalms or Solomon, but something Jesus had tried to explain to a prejudice crowd:

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth.  His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him.

(John 9:1-3 NIV)

The disciples anticipated a link between a man’s blindness and sin.  However, Jesus answered with “none of the above” before healing the man.  This is clearly refutation of the idea that sin causes misfortune.  It has nothing to do with the righteousness or unrighteousness of the sufferer.  Even the most devoted assumed people simply got what they deserved.  Jesus corrected their errant belief and presented blindness from birth as an opportunity to show God’s glory.  Physical defect is not a punishment for sin, nor is poverty or misfortune, evil men are sometimes rich and powerful—it is only our spiritual blindness that makes us see great wealth or good health as a direct reward for virtue.  Jesus did not.

Here’s another case of Jesus addressing an unfortunate circumstance:

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no!  But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?  I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.”

(Luke 13:1-5 NIV)

We all ask questions after tragedy.  Why do some get swept away in the flood waters—while others escape without injury?  These are questions we all must grapple with and one answer is to blame the victims.  Jesus is citing two recent events for his audience.  The euphemism about mixing of blood with sacrifices refers to the pilgrims from Galilee killed by Roman soldiers while at the temple atoning for sin.  The tower in Siloam tragedy was, by contrast, was an engineering failure or natural disaster rather than deliberate.  In both cases Jesus dismisses the idea that it is a form of retributive justice—and instead he gives a reminder that we all die.

The whole Gospel narrative depends on an idea that even the good people suffer (and oftentimes more for being good) because it is exactly what happened to Jesus.  If only good things can ever happen to righteous people then explain the suffering and death of the Christian example.  And this is not a new teaching of the Gospel, there’s a whole book named Job about a man who had one calamity after another because of—and not in spite of—his righteousness.  Job’s friends were rebuked, by God, for trying to fault with him.  They made the same mistake many in the time of Jesus made and assigned moral weight to misfortune.  This idea contradicts the core of the Gospel showing the ultimate example of the righteous man is one who is willing to suffer for the sins of others.

The way of the cross is hated by those who crave worldly power.

The reason why we prefer to blame victims is because it removes our responsibility to care.  We can simply say they got what they deserved and move on.  But that’s the same attitude of Cain—who murdered his brother and then when confronted by God says “Am I my brother’s keeper?”  The example Jesus gave is a polar opposite: Saving those who are completely undeserving—taking the loss on himself rather than demand that people suffer for their sins.  A Christian should only see disaster as an opportunity to help those in need—to show gratitude for grace of God towards us—never as cause for speculation about their hidden sins.  

Myth of American Meritocracy 

The idea that great wealth is a reward for virtue is a pillar of American conservative politics.  This naturally accompanies that notion that people get the suffering which they deserve and is a cornerstone a current economic system we call Capitalism.  The myth of meritocracy is that those at the top gaining their riches through their hard work or wise investments rather than via shady business or exploitation.  If you work hard you’ll do well—that’s a foundational premise of our economic system.

And it is true, having a good work ethic and investing well are keys to success.  Making excuses rather than finding a way will keep you in poverty for life.  However, many do the right things and fail.  While others, born into the wrong circumstances, never have a real opportunity despite trying.  And some people simply lack ability.  Real life—beyond those ideological or theoretical constructs—defies pat answers.  Some are successful only because of the investment of others in them—they were born with a silver spoon in their mouth—others did everything they can do and can’t escape their constraints.

I’ve gone at length taking on the Democrat’s divisive identity politics and their creation of dependency-for-votes strategy—keeping the poor coming back for more while only ever delivering crumbs.  But the Republican myth of American meritocracy isn’t much better—it is an extension of a televangelists “health and wealth” message or: Donate to me and you’ll be blessed sevenfold!”  They basically get rich by gaming the system, while we pay their bills and then get blamed for our own lack of ability to get ahead financially due to inflation their policies created.

The idea that all wealth is deserved or equal to virtue is wrong.  Money can be gained by many different means, some of them good—some bad.  A decent person creates value with their own work and trades this for what others have produced.  The laborer, the one who is doing the actual work, deserves their wages.  And yet there are many less analog ways exist to gain wealth that don’t involve the sweat of your brow.  Yes, it might all be legal, but gain through a promotion of vice or through exploitation of human weakness is not the same as honest work.

There are many unethical and unscrupulous ways to get rich.  And many who are on the ‘Capitalist’ or ‘conservative’ side seem to be fine with this brutal finders-keepers-losers-weapers death race.  This social darwinism that rewards taking legal loopholes or every deceptive scheme possible, might be called free market but is a predatory system which favors the ruthless rather than those with a conscience.  Money through vice can come quicker because it is a mere transfer and is not produced by an individual but obtained through trickery and exploitation.  Vice and usery, political prostitution, are all examples of unmerited gain even if legal.

Cleverness isn’t a virtue.

We’re not a meritocracy.  Jeff Bezos did not get rich from his own work alone.  And the Republicans do not represent hardworking Americans any more than Democrats—both work for the donor class.  Money we did not gain by the work of our own hands, which is obtained without any moral consideration, it is meritless wealth.  Merit is about qualities such as “good, valuable, or worthy of praise and reward” and, therefore, in a meritocracy we must be concerned with the means with which wealth is obtained.  Economic rents and monopolies, transaction fees, political prostitution, usery, luck and inheritance, are all a means of financial gain which do not require productive efforts.  

The myth of meritocracy is that all those at the top did something to deserve it.  While most certainly did something to gain their wealth, the types who are ruthless and would “sell their own grandma” shouldn’t be praised.  Money has no moral value, or at least other than that people tend to compromise for those who will write that fat check.  And Capitalism is not meritocracy by default—not when there are so many paths to enormous wealth through means of deception or exploitation.  Stepping on others in order to get ahead is depravity, not merit, and a sign of moral bankruptcy rather than being something to be celebrated. 

Measles & Mythology

Standard

The punishment of Sisyphus seems bizarre. This king, in Greek mythology, was condemned for all eternity to the struggle of pushing a massive boulder up a steep hill only to have it roll back down again. What was his crime against the gods?

Sisyphus outsmarted and chained up Thanatos what happened (Death) according to some versions. Whereas in other accounts, they emphasize that he leveraged information to secure the Peirene Spring for the city of Corinth. In both cases it was him cheating death. Fresh water was key for a city up on a hill—with waterborne disease a big problem with stagnant waters.  And keeping Death bound also allowed mortals to live without fear of dying for a period of time.

This myth is the perfect metaphor for human progress. We have been so very successful for a century—or two—that many are ignorant of how life was before the widespread use of antibiotics and vaccines. We still have survivors of polio alive today—people with lifelong disabilities due to their illness—yet a fairly large population remains blissfully unaware of the risk of being unprotected.

A recent reminder of this is the measles outbreak that is currently sweeping through Amish and Mennonite communities. Hundreds of cases are reported (many more likely unreported), almost entirely among the unvaccinated. It’s not too surprising—hearing of their accounts of severe illness—that a local clinic that caters to Old Order Anabaptists has seen a significant spike in demand for MMR vaccines.

True, only a handful of deaths can currently be directly attributed to this disease. And sure, we can argue that a ruptured spleen during birth is more the fault of an unlicensed midwife than it is the organ being inflamed and vulnerable due to the viral infection. It’s technically not the fall that kills; it is the sudden stop at the end when you hit the ground. But let’s not be cute about it: measles comes with health consequences which will often extend beyond the initial sickness.

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1FEZV9NmLw/

However, this is hubris that cuts both ways. It is not just the “did my own research” type who dooms humanity to a repeat cycle. It can also be the overconfidence of formally educated and designated authorities. Dr. Anthony Fauci’s declarations on MSNBC—“Attacks on me… are attacks on science”—and saying “I represent science” on CBS’s Face the Nation later—border on delusional. Wisdom isn’t derived from the mere accumulation of knowledge—its humility and understanding that our knowledge (dogma) can be a blind spot—even become a hindrance to growth in perspective. Nobody is immune.

A younger Amish co-worker (one of those vaccinated against measles) confided in me that his own doubts arose because of the COVID response. Prior to the pandemic he had faith in the medical profession, and I’ll confess to a similar experience. There’s a backlash that was earned.

The reality is this: in the 1950s we thought we would beat disease. We raised a whole generation who saw progress as linear, humanity finally overcoming disease through hygiene and antibiotics. But another generation has learned that there are consequences to advancements. Nature snaps back; we now have autoimmune disorders and allergies like never before. Antibiotic resistance may eventually erase much of the advantage we have enjoyed. Maybe this modernist notion of a climb into some utopian end is mythological, and the nature of reality is cyclical? Science is not our salvation.

And it’s layers of complexity. Our modern institutions, formed by extraordinary men, had gained our trust through successes. A silent testimony of child graves from only a century ago is the traction Dr. Fauci found for his career. But like our discovering the flaws in our once-infallible parents, and as brilliant innovators are replaced with those who are mere caretakers of an established system, we learn there was no truly sacred substance there. And our doubts cause us to lose grip on the boulder civilization has labored to move. Either by forgetting those lessons that got us to our heights or by our flight too close to the sun (the myth of Icarus), we come crashing down to Earth again.

I suppose both our ignorance and our arrogance could be our downfall. As I see a race towards a potential AI apocalypse, with ‘the science’ unable to contain itself, or observe the loss of sense of those who didn’t experience the plagues of the past firsthand to appreciate the benefit of an imperfect solution, I can’t decide what will lead us to the punishment for our having held back disease and death. I only suspect that the action will produce an equal and opposite reaction. Or maybe we can hand Sisyphus a stick to prop that rock and live indefinitely in a fragile balance?

A myth is a warning about something true and goes beyond mere facts and medical journals. There is a level of human reality that isn’t better explained in their academic pages or technical terms. We’re doomed to repeat history because the failure that leads to our next fall comes in a slightly different form each time. But it seems inevitable: civilization has a life cycle. It appears to be invincible during the rise; conquers heights never previously seen before (in the memory of those ascending) before it loses steam and all that was an asset turns to liabilities. We think we have defeated disease, and yet we have only bought ourselves a reprieve.