>It's doubtful whether we still have "popular culture" here -- culture
>of, by, and for peasants, artisans, workers, etc. -- today, as
>opposed to pop cultural sensations that are not really of, by, and
>for popular social forces but are in fact just pop flashes in the
>marketing pan.
Maybe, but perhaps Hardt & Negri's refusal of work idea is taking off, If so, its no "marketing" plan. (Sorry, that's too glib really, but the story speaks for itself.)
Bill Bartlett Bracknell Tas
http://www.theage.com.au/text/articles/2003/01/10/1041990094339.htm
A new definition of success
Melbourne Age January 11 2003
Politicians have been slow to notice a new style of voter. This type is hard to buy, writes Clive Hamilton.
Despite the fact that we are three times richer than in the 1950s, nearly two-thirds of Australians say they cannot afford to buy everything they really need. And it's not just the poorest who complain. Nearly half the richest 20 per cent of households say they do not have enough money to buy what they need.
These "middle-class whingers" are caught in a life-long quest to make their incomes match their consumer desires; and because their desires always outstrip their incomes they constantly feel deprived. Consumer society relies on the never-ending creation of desire for more.
But some people manage to break out of the cycle. Research by The Australia Institute has uncovered a large but hidden class of citizens who consciously reject the trappings of material success. In an era when money dominates private life and public debate more than ever, these "downshifters" have decided to make a long-term lifestyle change that involves lower incomes and reduced consumption.
While their reasons for downshifting are diverse - more time with family, more balance, more fulfilment - they share a belief that excessive pursuit of money and materialism comes at a substantial cost to their own lives and those of their families.
The middle-class whinger is a close cousin of the aspirational voter in whose hands, the pundits tell us, government lies. These voters aspire to wealthy lifestyles characterised by access to private education for their children, private health care, flash cars, home theatres and whatever else marks them out as having "made it". Such voters are open to political bribery.
But for downshifters the "hip-pocket nerve" has been cauterised. Comprising at least a quarter of the adult population, they might be called "anti-aspirational voters". Perhaps a similar number may be considered to be closet anti-aspirational voters, those who agree with the basic values and life priorities of downshifters but lack the resolve or, in some cases, the wherewithal, to make the transition to downshifting.
The survey results show that the phenomenon is by no means confined to middle-class professionals and successful business people who can afford to cut their incomes.
Downshifters certainly include people in this category, but they are just as likely to be low and middle-income people who have decided to accept reduced incomes, live more simply and spend more time on activities other than making money.
The numbers of Australians taking the downshifting path appear to be growing. Many are baby boomers who have done well financially, but just as many are in their late 20s and 30s. Younger downshifters are somewhat more likely to articulate post-materialist values, those that explicitly reject consumerism in favour of simpler and more sustainable lifestyles. Many have taken advantage of the flexibility permitted by the deregulated labour market. They can more easily change jobs, work independently, reduce their hours and negotiate more time off.
Rejecting the consumerist definition of success takes courage, and the absence of everyday role models makes it all the more difficult.
It is unusual for prominent people to reject these values and when they do - as in the cases of former National Party leader Tim Fischer and Australian Consumer and Competition Commission chairman Allan Fels - their decisions to step down for family reasons attract widespread and sympathetic attention. But because they have been earning high salaries for a long time they do not provide suitable role models for ordinary people thinking of taking the plunge.
Downshifters frequently report that they feel the weight of social pressure because of their decision. They are seen to be "crazy" to reject higher incomes and the accoutrements of materialism. Or they are accused of trying to cover up failure. But downshifters have simply chosen balanced lives rather than lives obsessed with material acquisition. Those who remain the prisoners of overwork and consumer dreaming and find themselves beset by stress, ill-health and family strain will soon be seen as the crazy ones.
The old political parties compete with each other to demonstrate concern for "struggling families", promising tax cuts and middle-class welfare. The political system is geared towards trying to satisfy the noisy demands of middle-class whingers, demands that can never be satisfied because complaining is endemic as long as wealthy people feel somehow deprived.
Downshifters do not complain; they quietly go about their lives. There is a clash between their values and those embodied in Australia's political culture. They are disenfranchised because much of the political debate is preoccupied with things in which they have no interest or actively reject.
Unlike middle-class whingers, downshifters do not demand that governments solve their problems. They have been offered a "fistful of dollars" but have said "no thanks". And those who have consciously made a downward bracket leap are not worried by bracket creep. They are more likely to ask the government to ratify the Kyoto Protocol than give them a $30-a-week tax break.
They remain concerned about affordability; after all, they have reduced their incomes. But they have also proved to themselves that they can do without many of the things they previously took for granted.
The emergence of a large class of downshifters in Australia challenges the old political parties to rethink their most basic suppositions about what makes for a better society. A preoccupation with more growth and higher incomes is no longer enough. Thumbing its nose at the promises of consumerism, downshifting calls for a sea change in how we define success.
While the rhetoric sometimes changes, the promotion of consumerist values and growth at all costs is unrelenting and these are precisely the social goals that downshifters are rebelling against.
The pre-eminence of economic factors to the exclusion of others is at variance with the life priorities of downshifters, a divergence that no amount of family-friendly rhetoric can conceal. The main political parties remain a long way from redefining the Australian dream in a way that accords with the actions of the growing class of downshifters in the era of abundance.
Dr Clive Hamilton is executive director of The Australia Institute, a public-interest think tank (mail at tai.org.au).
http://www.theage.com.au/text/articles/2003/01/10/1041990097826.htm
Rise and rise of the new D-gen
Date: January 11 2003
By Farah Farouque, Social Affairs Editor
The pursuit of a consumer-driven lifestyle has begun to pall for an increasing number of Australians. More people are "downshifting" - embracing long-term lifestyle changes that include jobs with less pay and status.
The first major Australian study of this trend identifies a growing and, until now, apparently "invisible class" of citizens - nearly a quarter of the population aged 30 to 59 - who are re-evaluating the meaning of success.
People are making changes voluntarily. They are not "dropping out" but opting out, often after a period of soulful contemplation.
A better family life and seeking a more balanced and fulfilling existence loom large for downshifters, who have effectively cauterised their hip pocket nerve, suggests the report's author, Clive Hamilton, director of the Canberra-based think tank the Australia Institute.
The study, commissioned by the institute, questioned 981 adults in the 30-59 age group.
The research, conducted in November and December last year, found 23 per cent of people had chosen to downshift over the past decade. The shift seems to have gained momentum in the past two to three years.
Australia's downshifters are paring their working lives in a variety of ways, Dr Hamilton says.
Reducing working hours is the most popular - and least dramatic - expression of the change, but some people are even choosing to stop paid work altogether.
Downshifting is by no means confined to the affluent, according to the study. Blue-collar workers are as likely to do it as the middle class. Men and women, in their 30s, 40s and 50s, as well as families with and without children, have made the transition.
Women were more likely to stop paid work and men more likely to change careers, while parents generally were more likely to reduce hours or stop working, the study found.
"Downshifting is not a movement, but it is certainly a major phenomenon in Australian society," Dr Hamilton says. "All sorts of different people are doing it."
Even the clergy are doing it. The Anglican Bishop of Grafton, Philip Huggins, recently flagged plans to take a $15,000 pay cut and become a rector in Melbourne. Reason? He wanted to spend more time with his children.
Glenda May, a psychologist and life coach, counsels senior executives. When they approach the upper rungs of the corporate ladder, she says, many ask: "Is that all there is?"
"I've seen a real focus on the importance of their own personal values," Ms May says.
David Gregory, workplace relations manager at the Victorian Employers Chamber of Commerce and Industry, acknowledges there is deep vein of reinvention going on in the workplace.
But he questions whether downshifting is as prevalent as Newspoll indicates. "I am surprised," he says. "We are certainly aware that people are stepping back from more senior roles to hands-on roles.
"People are making decisions that they've done all that they want and are reverting . . . for older workers, time can be more valuable than pursing the holy dollar."
ACTU president Sharan Burrow says the premise that people are downshifting to attain a better quality of life doesn't surprise her.
"The demands of work have intensified to the point that working families are struggling to balance work and family commitments," she says.
"Family-friendly workplaces is the priority challenge for companies in this decade if they want to retain skilled, loyal employees."
Psychologist Della Broderick-Brown, who works in Geelong, says this desire to work fewer hours is urgently felt by people with families, whereas singles are more likely to stay in high-stress jobs at the expense of other aspects of their lives.
"People are working extremely long hours and it's coming up in physical stress," she says. "Companies will have to take note of that."
VECCI's David Gregory insists employers are generally responsive to the needs for flexible workplace and keen to retain good staff.
But the realpolitik of some jobs, he says, means not every worker's needs can be accommodated. Some jobs have to be done in fixed ways, he says.
On a pragmatic note, he adds: "The days of being in the same job for 20 or 30 years are gone."
The study found that the values expressed by downshifters are "by no means confined to a peculiar minority".
But, notably, few nominate "post-materialist" reasons for their decision.
Dr Hamilton argues that it is fair to assume, however, that among the complex factors people ponder in making such a bold lifestyle change, "severing the bonds of materialism" is crucial.