Almost a decade ago, I was pioneering the night shift at a start-up. Or, more truthfully, relegated to a shift where I had to spend the nights in office, alone. The space was pretty cool – bean bags and foosball tables, and a line of iMacs as far as the eye could see. It was a great place to work. Good bosses, better colleagues and every attempt to be liberal, “non-toxic”. But at night, alone for three weeks, it became clear why nearly every act of “right-sizing”, “lay-offs” or “letting people go” is an immoral one.
The sea of sexy machines – when not being worked on by people — were mere things, of the same ontological order as rocks. The moment they were purchased, they began depreciating in value. The same was true of almost everything else in that office, as it is true of every other in the world. How, then, I wondered, was it all made possible? How could people make money from depreciating assets? Where, in short, was the source of the munafa?
Mark Zuckerberg, one of the pantheon of amoral genius billionaires who run the tech world, recently attempted a heartfelt letter. In the company-wide email, he told employees that about a third of them – some 11,000 people – would lose their jobs. There have been no widespread protests from the workers. The most obvious reason for this is that they are not unionised. But it likely goes deeper than that. By most accounts, Meta (the company formerly known as Facebook), treats it employees well, in line with many Big Tech companies. Options for flexi-time, work-from-home days and most importantly, a decent pay packet. Few in the sector likely want to be labelled “trouble-makers”. They may need to work again, after all.
But it still must sting a little. Zuckerberg admitted, in no uncertain terms, that the company’s financial situation is a result of his mistakes. “I want to take accountability for the decisions that got us here,” he writes. While the accountability in an email is admirable, he isn’t the one losing his job.
That’s impossible, most people will say. It’s his company. He started Facebook and basically birthed the social media revolution in his dorm room. But the company in its current form is not about “innovation”. It is a giant corporation with multiple offices in a host of countries – all filled with the best machines and servers and bean bags and foosball tables (or their more pricey equivalents), just like the site of the night shift. And the source of its enduring profits is the same as the smaller company in India. People.
All those years ago, it became clear that the way munafa is extracted from depreciating assets is through labour. In university, every student of the social sciences or liberal arts would have studied Karl Marx’s labour theory of value. But to see it in action, alone in an office is a revelation.
As an “innovator”, Mark likely knows what Marx meant, if only sub-consciously: That it is only through human action that machines turn profitable. In fact, he told the people he was sacking that “Each of you have helped make Meta a success, and I’m grateful for it.” He probably means every word. But in a better world, one where billionaires understood and appreciated those who had a part in building their fortunes, they would be more answerable, and “accountability” for bad decisions meant more than a contrite line in an email.
aakash.joshi@expressindia.com