Pluralism of values and the limits of the market
Key points
One of the most radical insights of Elizabeth Anderson's thought is that justice can neither be reduced to a matter of redistribution nor to a matter of efficiency. As we have seen in last weeks Mind the Economy, what matters, even before 'who has how much', is the nature of the relationships that bind people together and that institutions structure between them. Such institutions can be considered just when they make possible relations of 'non-domination', relations, that is, between individuals that can be considered equal. Conversely, they are unjust when they produce subordination, dependency, moral devaluation. It is this relational perspective that allows us to grasp the relevance of Value in Ethics and Economics (Harvard University Press, 1993), the first important book by the American philosopher. A book that, more than thirty years later, continues to question one of the most deeply rooted assumptions of neoclassical economics: the idea that there is a single metric of value, capable of ordering all our choices and correctly assessing everything we value most. It is important to make it clear from the outset that Anderson's critique is not directed at the market as such, nor does it stem from a general distrust of economic instruments. Far from it. Her target is precise. It is what she calls 'economic monism', the belief that, that is, every good, every activity, every relationship can be understood, compared and justified through a single evaluative logic, of price, exchange and therefore efficiency.
Against this reductionism, Anderson proposes a simple and perhaps precisely for this reason disruptive idea: goods differ not only in quantity but also in their 'kind'. Not only "how much", but also "why?". Some of these goods we desire, others we respect, and still others shape our identity and the way we relate to others. This is why, he writes in the book's introduction, 'the world is permeated by many different values, and good things differ not only in degree, but in kind' (p. 1). This pluralism of values represents an institutionally demanding thesis. If goods differ in 'kind', then they cannot all be allocated according to the same logic without something being lost. The problem is not that the market functions badly, but that it is called upon to do too much. And when the logic of the market claims to become a universal grammar of value, that is when justice begins to deteriorate.
When the market becomes the measure of everything
Yet, economic monism increasingly aspires to become a universal logic. The issue is not of marginal importance because 'treating everything as a commodity,' the philosopher continues, 'means imposing a particular conception of value on social practices that respond to different norms' (p. 143). Certain goods - care, labour, citizenship, personal relationships - not only cannot be correctly valued through the logic of price, but, moreover, they lose value when they are commodified. Their deeper meaning, in fact, depends on the type of relationship they establish. Paying for something is not always morally harmless. It can turn a relationship of recognition into an instrumental one. Anderson is explicit on this point. "Personal relationships governed by market norms," she writes, "tend to deteriorate because the market encourages attitudes of instrumentalisation that are incompatible with respect, care, and reciprocity" (p. 150). A just society, then, cannot simply correct the distorting effects of the market a posteriori. Rather, it must establish upstream when the logic of exchange and price is an appropriate logic and when, on the contrary, it becomes intrusive and corrosive. This is the deeper meaning of value pluralism: not the idea that 'everyone has their own values', but the much more demanding thesis that different goods require different allocation criteria because they incorporate and produce different social relations. Indeed, the market is not just an impersonal coordination mechanism; it is a social practice that rewards certain dispositions - the ability to pay, the willingness to compete, the propensity for self-promotion, a certain indifference to the other's history and identity - and discourages others. It works relatively well when the goal is to allocate standardised, reproducible, replaceable goods. But it becomes normatively inadequate when it enters spheres in which what matters is not simply obtaining something, but the manner in which it is obtained and the type of relationship that that obtaining establishes.
I was walking to work this morning and at one point I passed a small trattoria. Very simple but with good reviews. In the window was a sign with a handwritten inscription saying 'A primo al pomodoro for those who can't. If you can't make it, come in here, today the spaghetti is on us. How much is that dish worth? If we use the price criterion, nothing! That meal is free, so price equals zero. But are we sure that that spaghetti with the gesture underneath, the attention, the simplicity and warmth, that it signals is worth nothing to the recipient? Herein lies the paradox: a good that possesses a zero or very low price but which, at the same time, produces an enormous, infinite value, precisely because it is free, i.e. not due.
The inadequacy of 'economic monism' to grasp the complex relationships also inherent in our economic life emerges with particular clarity when, as economists, we address gender issues. Gender economics has produced a vast empirical literature in recent years that shows how men and women, on average, differ in their propensity to compete, their willingness to take risks and their inclination to self-selection in highly competitive environments. Given equal skills, women tend more frequently to avoid competition, not because they are less capable, but because they are less inclined to value it as a criterion for fair selection. If one takes this fact seriously, a normatively relevant fact emerges: the market does not simply reward the most deserving, but those whose dispositions are more aligned with competitive logic. In other words, the market tends to reward not only what people can do, but how they are willing to do it: how aggressive they are, how willing they are to accept confrontation, how much they tolerate exposure to competitive judgement.
