By Max Haiven, Enda Brophy and Benjamin Anderson

This article is the introduction to a series of texts published on Public Seminar in the lead-up to the Digital/Debt/Empire symposium in Vancouver in late April 2019, convened by Benjamin Anderson, Enda Brophy and Max Haiven.

Throughout the history of racial capitalism, debt has been a key weapon of colonialism and imperialism. Examples include the ruinous debt forced on Haiti by the defeated empires of Europe as revenge for their revolution against slavery, the debt bondage that cheapened migrant Asian labour in the 19th century, and a long 20th century defined by the sabotage of decolonization through mechanisms of odious national debts imposed on countries of the the Global South. And whether it was the accounting techniques that enabled and insured the transatlantic slave trade, the use of telegraphs to manage global supply chains or the punitive power of global bond markets, the latest forms of technology have often been marshalled to deepen the connection between finance and empire.

In today’s digital age this tendency not only continues, it intensifies. The subprime mortgage meltdown which ignited the 2008 financial crisis revealed the deepening reliance  of contemporary debt and financial power structures on the extraction of wealth from racialized communities. It also showed  that such racialized debt regimes are evermore intensively digitized. Although perhaps not immediately obvious, examples abound: racially-encoded algorithms that determine credit-worthiness; the high-frequency trading robots that buy and sell  predatory debts (such as those of Puerto Rico) thousands of time each second in search of speculative gain; the foisting of new “FinTech” and crypto-currency solutions on poor and racialized people as quick technological “fixes” to deep problems of inequality and oppression; the buy-now-pay-later startup platforms marketed and regulated to “at risk” young people as budgeting tools, in place of meaningful social care and investment in communities; the necropolitical forms of “risk management” that help the global extractive industry and its ongoing destruction of Indigenous lands and human rights.

And yet, at the same time social movements are also seizing on new digital technologies to understand and confront a world defined increasingly by unpayable and punitive debts. For instance: Citizens collaborate on auditing their municipalities’ debt agreements with global banks; debtors assemble their own databases to connect horizontally and discover their shared persecutors; hackers and pranksters attack the ledgers of empire; artists reinvent the line between financial credit and social debts, revealing the hidden sources of solidarity; anonymous and massive data leaks allow tax fairness advocates to expose the hoards of digital cash stashed away in tax havens by the global elite; and everywhere grassroots movements struggle to reinvent the economy, moving away from the debt-driven ecological suicide pact of racial capitalism towards a richer network of social bonds between people and the planet.

To explore these intersections, we have called a meeting of activists, artists and scholars to convene in late April of 2019 in Vancouver, on the unceded traditional territories of the Coast Salish peoples of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh Nations, to discuss three themes:

  • First, the legacies and currents of empire, racialization and colonialism that animate today’s global debt regimes.
  • Second, the ways in which new digital technologies are being used to entrench these regimes, but also to challenge them.
  • Third, if and how these technologies, when mobilized by grassroots social movements, might open new horizons for collective liberation.

This short essay is a flying introduction to these themes. Over the coming weeks, many of those participants will publish short contributions and interventions in this Public Seminar series: DIGITAL/DEBT/EMPIRE.

Empire

By thinking of debt and digital technology in terms of modern empire and imperialism we frame our approach in the tradition of anti-imperialist struggle and thought. This tradition echoes the demand for self-determination from those who, throughout the history of capitalism, have been exploited, oppressed, and made into objects of extraction by colonialism. It also echos the long history of anti-imperialist struggle by the working classes at the heart of empires past and present.

Empire was and is justified and operates through racist ideologies and mythologies. Today, while it has become impolitic to speak of empires, they nonetheless remain, with powerful nation-states (almost always former colonizers) continuing to use violent and financial forms of coercion or enforce relations of dependency, extraction, and debt bondage on countries and peoples around the world. For instance, throughout the latter part of the 20th century, former colonial nations in the Global North exploited their influence over financing institutions like the World Bank and International Monetary Fund to compel nations largely in the Global South to comply with the neoliberal agenda of corporate-led globalization, transfiguring “development” into a vehicle of neocolonialism. In the form of what Harsha Walia calls border imperialism, as well as through racist domestic policies, these same colonizing nation-states have typically also rendered racialized populations within their claimed territories as hyper-exploitable.

We are also sympathetic to the argument that, in profoundly new ways, financialization has enabled global capitalism itself to become an imperial force, superintending and disciplining even imperialist nation-states, forcing everyone and everything into a terrifying death spiral of endless, relentless competition. As Maurizio Lazzarato elucidates, debt is perhaps the key method by which this global capitalist imperium is enforced. It comes as no surprise that this global order of debt is enabled and augmented through the ever more intensive application of new information and communication technologies in order to fully integrate global capitalist exchange and open every sphere of life up to extraction and exploitation. That nations in the Global North now feel these phenomena in the form of “austerity” appears to validate the warning of anti-colonial thinkers like Aimé Césaire that the cruelties first exercised at the margins of empire will soon work their way to its heart.

The risk, however, is that a universalizing idea of a new, digital, financialized global capitalist Empire can ignore the very real and substantial way that this “new” formation is still characterized by the kinds of colonial extraction, racialized exploitation and border imperialism inherited from the past forms of empire and reinscribed in the digital present. If we are now all the subjects of a capitalist imperium then we would be well served by remembering that, as with any empire, some subjects are literally and metaphorically more credit-worthy than others, and the wealth of the some comes at the expense of Others.

As promising as it may be to suggest that debt is a near-universal condition of subjugation and therefor an important grounds for solidarity, such a position may hide more than it reveals. Of crucial importance are claims regarding those debts-from-below owed to the colonized and exploited of the world whose territory, blood, and bones are the mortar of empire’s foundations. These claims include reparations for the transatlantic slave trade, the repatriation of stolen Indigenous lands, the return of stolen artifacts housed in colonial museums, or the restoration of natural ecosystems and cultural commons.

Debt

For these reasons, we want to examine debt as a key means to make sense of our moment and, in particular, the legacies and currents of imperialism, colonialism and racism within it. Here we take inspiration from David Graeber’s path-breaking work that explains how, though many human societies have been held together by exploitative forms of debt, global capitalism is particularly toxic in the way it leverages the junction of moral and financial compulsion. Yet along with Miranda Joseph, Denise Ferrara da Silva and Paula Chakravartty we recall that this junction at the border of “culture” and “economics” has always been haunted and shaped by race and empire.

We know from the work of theorists like Ian Baucom, Justin Leroy and Zenia Kisch, Anita Rupprecht and others that the history of the modern debt and “risk-management” industries and their technologies of measure and management are thickly entangled with the world-historic crime of the transatlantic slave trade. We also know that the history of empire has been waged largely through the reciprocal imposition and denial of debts by the powerful. For instance, as Lisa Lowe illustrates, the subjugation and pillage of China in the Opium Wars saw British, French, American and other European merchant capitalists use the liberal rhetoric of free trade, progress and internationalism to foist a poisonous but profitable drug on the world’s most populous nation. When Chinese authorities (for all their faults) attempted to regulate the trade they were held accountable, through military force, for the debt of interrupting the lawful commerce of empire. The debts owed to the millions of Chinese people who suffered the drug’s cruel curse have never even been internationally acknowledged, let alone paid.

Similarly, a series of scholars beginning with W.E.B. Du Bois have noted the way that a Black-led Reconstruction in the US was sabotaged by, on the one hand, denying the reparations due to formerly enslaved people for their abuse and, on the other, compelling many to enter into debt-bondage and share-cropping to further exploit their labour. Joseph as well as thinkers like Jackie Wang have traced the way these imperial debt politics have shaped the current carceral regime of American mass incarceration, where the “debt to society” imprisoned people are assumed to owe disguises the systemic and structural deficits of care and justice that led to the conditions of their criminalization to begin with. This social “debt” becomes an economic one when the US bail bond industry targets populations of colour for its extractive loans, which, when they go unpaid, serve as a pretence for further incarceration–a central grievance within the uprisings in Ferguson, Missouri.

We might also note, along with Arthur Manuel, that in an era when colonial settler states like Canada are keen to “reconcile” with Indigenous nations, this often takes the form of endless, doomed land negotiations between these nations and the colonial government, or lawsuits in that colonial government’s own courts, for which these nations must borrow massive sums. Meanwhile, of course, the historical debt that colonial settler states owe for the original theft of the land is rendered invisible.

Wang’s work points to the possibilities of new solidarities between, struggles to abolish prisons and movements to abolish punitive and exploitative debt. In both cases, a leap of the radical imagination, backed by real action, is necessary. To create a world without prisons is not the same as living in a society without justice; living in a society without debt is not the same as living in a society without social bonds. The challenge is to develop frameworks for solidarity within, against and beyond these intertwined systems.

The digital

In the face of the social devastations incurred by this global empire of debt, technological solutionism is rampant. A perfect symbol of the contradictions here are the many American crypto-currency and “FinTech” entrepreneurs, hucksters and gamblers who descended upon hurricane- and austerity-ravaged Puerto Rico. Smugly retracing their forefathers’ colonial footsteps in seizing upon this imagined financial Terra Nullius, these men (because they’re almost all men) aim to create a tax-free high-tech utopia built on a foundation of entrepreneurial affect, market-based extraction, and the libertarian worship of digital technology.

The relationship between the parallel expansion of debt and digital technologies has a genealogy which stretches back to the disintegration of Fordism. In the early 1980s Cees Hamelink traced the “converging interests” between the financial and “information” sectors. From that decade  onward finance played a central role in privatization of telecommunications infrastructure across the world. After the Volcker Shock sent interest rates soaring, national debts were used as a lever to privatize. Between 1984 and 1999, up to $1 trillion of state-owned telecommunications networks were sold off and around half of the 189 members of the International Telecommunications Union (ITU) at least partially privatized their telecom sectors. In many countries the national telecommunications company became the largest company listed on the national stock exchange.

As the infrastructure required for a globalized, digitized financial sector fell into capital’s hands, banks and other financial entities led the first wave of labour outsourcing, one which more often than not retraced the passages of colonial rule. Winnifred Poster has documented the labour process of Indian workers charged with selling and collecting on credit from British and American consumers. More recently, as a xenophobic backlash in America has targeted “foreign” call centre workers in India, debt collection companies and law firms in the United States have found it convenient to outsource remote collection work to cities like Mexico City and Tijuana, where a suitably desperate, freshly-deported, English-speaking population of Mexican nationals can be employed on the cheap to collect on student, medical, and other forms of debt from consumers across the border. Relying on data on debtors transmitted from servers across the border in the the United States and submitted to strict security regimes at work (more than one worker has compared their workplace to a prison), these workers migrate virtually each day to the country which has deported them, where their families and loved ones often remain.

The overlap between debt and the digital has arguably reached a kind of apotheosis with the rise of platform capitalism. Venture capital funds bankroll the developing sector, which according to Adam Arvidsson displays a new logic of capitalist governance–what he calls, echoing Randy Martin, the social logic of the derivative. As Arvidsson argues, the algorithms that Facebook uses share a genealogy with those of derivative financial instruments. Little surprise then that the company has patented a technology to help lenders discriminate against borrowers based on their social connections.

Moreover, the global operations of platforms like Facebook have taken on decidedly colonial hues.. Free Basics, a program developed by Facebook with six internet service providers, is marketed as an “onramp to the internet” in developing countries where access is otherwise difficult. In the future, web connectivity will be delivered by a fleet of solar-powered  drones, but when populations are brought online they get the dubious benefit of a stripped-down, “poor man’s” Internet. According to Global Voices–an anti-censorship network of bloggers and activists–the architectural and content limitations of Free Basics are utterly artificial and exist primarily as a mechanism for collecting profitable data from users. Here, at the outer reach of the platform empires, we find the extension of what can rightly be called “data colonialism.

That such initiatives are discussed as philanthropic by their developers is hardly surprising.  There is a keen synergy between the tech sector are and the Davos crowd. After the self-acknowledged historic failure of structural adjustment-driven neocolonial debt imperialism, international capital and its supranational  institutions (including the World Bank, IMF and others) have enthusiastically embraced technologically-augmented approaches like micro-credit lending, which attempt to use debt, this time targeted at the world’s poorest communities and people (often women). They do so not in the name of reducing inequality (of which they, after all, are the beneficiaries) but in the belief that such schemes, as well as attempts to provide financial services to the unbanked masses, will allow the neoliberal entrepreneurial spirit to gain a foothold in new markets. That these projects, which encourage competition and profiteering, have often proven ineffective or even socially destructive to communities (though often lucrative to investors) has not caused the new financial missionaries of debt’s empire to meaningfully question their underlying assumptions, only to renew their bonds with technoevangelists in the absurd faith that only more capitalism will cure capitalism of its morbidity.

Indeed, the use of digitized debt and the magic of “FinTech” to solve the problems of racialized poverty are also actively and enthusiastically deployed in the Global North: crumbling government health, education and social services are increasingly financialized through schemes like social impact investing, direct privatization or through new forms of public-sector accounting. Yet when we read between the spreadsheets, we see the larger story. As da Silva and Chakkravarty note, along with Ananya Roy, racialized populations are targeted for “financial inclusion” to open new frontiers of wealth extraction and labour exploitation with the promise of social mobility. But racialization already marks the horizon of exclusion from the body economic, and racialized subjects, especially Black and Indigenous subjects, are frequently doomed to have their fiscal investments transformed into often deadly liabilities, as the subprime mortgage meltdown revealed. This is also revealed in the aftermaths of financial remedies offered to Indigenous nations in lieu of the repatriation of stolen lands.

Graeber’s work shows us that debt has always hidden and normalized social violence, making it appear that the oppressed and exploited owe something to the oppressor and exploiter while hiding the true debts owed for the perpetuation of these injustices. In a digital age, this occultation of justice in the name of debt is facilitated and accelerated. Platforms and algorithms render the social relation of debt ever more opaque. As capitalism reconfigures itself, many populations are rendered temporarily or permanently “surplus” in the eyes of that system, consigned to precarity, poverty and existential anguish, often subjected to increased policing and imprisonment. As the world’s wealthy take an ever greater share of its wealth for themselves, yet remain dependent on ever-increasing rates of consumerism, the production of debt becomes a crucial stopgap. Indeed discovering new ways to offer people access to debt has become one of the most crucial industries of capitalism today. While they may pay lip service to notions of “financial inclusion” and “financial literacy,” the vast majority of new FinTech schemes simply attempt to use the latest technologies to make punitive forms of debt more accessible or irresistable.

Resistance

The intersections of debt, empire and digital technology we list above do not constitute anything close to a comprehensive or systemic account of the topic, but are offered to excite the imagination towards curiosity for–and catalyze anger against–this fraught intersection.

Could debt be a platform for resistance to this neocolonial order? Many hopeful experiments have emerged in the past decade in this regard. The Debt Collective, which emerged in part out the Occupy Wall Street offshoot StrikeDebt, is attempting to use digital methods to organize a debtors’ union in the United States, mobilizing people who owe debts to a common creditor to band together to challenge their oppressor. Their most successful campaign to date has been a debt strike against Corinthian, a for-profit college that explicitly targeted poor Americans of colour to invest in an already-sabotaged professional degree. This campaign cancelled millions of dollars of odious debt and led to significant changes to US law and policy.

Meanwhile, in Europe, citizens groups are challenging the agenda of austerity by creating networks of municipal organizations that undertake a people’s’ audit of government finances and debts, demonstrating that resources that exist to care for the population are instead being delivered to transnational financial vultures. These audits take inspiration from similar efforts in the 1990s and 2000s from the Global South.

Central to many of these efforts have been the contributions and interventions of artists. Debt is, ultimately, an imaginary set of relations between people, institutions and financial entities, and in an era when the will of global capital to sacrifice whole populations on the altar of corporate profit has reached a level of horrific absurdity it should be no surprise that artists find much material to work with. DebtFair, for instance, interrupts the financialized pageantry of the global art world with the spectre of shows of artists selected by the debts they owe–often to the corporate  patrons themselves. Feminist artists like Nuria Güell, Cassie Thornton and Bek Conroy challenge the underlying logics of gender and value that underpin the debt empire.

And then there are those initiatives that seek to create a space of exodus from the debt system, within, against and beyond the current order – what Fred Moten and Stefano Harney signal as the undercommons. Cooperation Jackson, in Mississippi’s capital, for instance, has developed a profoundly inspirational set of experiments in creating a network of grassroots cooperatives that seek to directly challenge the racial order of wealth and economic control in the US South. The Madison, Wisconsin-based Mutual Aid Network, meanwhile, has created a hub for imagining new methods for organizing forms of cooperation and care that might allow us to survive and thrive beyond digital debt’s empire. In both cases, digital methods are important, but always as a means to an end.

We now have within reach powerful and capacious digital tools to allow us to reinvent social and economic relations in ways that draw on and reinforce non-exploitative social bonds. The task ahead of us is to approach these possibilities with complex stories. Given that global debt-driven capital is on a collision course with ecological catastrophe it can be tempting to imagine that we must forgo a discussion of the legacies and currents of race, empire and colonialism in the name of an emergency solidarity. But for some of us, the emergency began centuries ago with the viral spread of capitalism and colonialism, and without attending to these legacies and currents we may inadvertently renovate, rather than abolish and replace, the very systems we claim to be seeking to overcome.

Ultimately, however, we believe that the debts that are owed to the oppressed, exploited, and colonized cannot be repaid in the currency of empire. There is not enough capitalist money in the world to pay back the debt of its own gory creation. We owe ourselves its abolition.


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