Where does capital go from here? We have found ourselves in the late stage of capitalism; the endgame of hundreds of years of extreme wealth and prosperity for some, and horrible exploitation for others. Every corner of the globe has been conquered, every human interaction has been transformed into a transaction. The commons has been commodified, labor power has been squashed, and every area of public life has been privatized. Now the scales have been tipped and an ever growing section of humanity has been, to varying degrees, cast underfoot. In Marxist orthodoxy, this is the exact moment where the internal contradictions of capitalism begin to destroy it from the inside. The extreme inequality and exploitation we face should have already given birth to a new socialist society. I can’t say that I see this transformation happening around me. What I do see is a disturbing change in the direction of capitalism. The inertia of capital has shifted from an outward force to an internal force. Traditionally, capital’s hunger for new markets pushed it around the world, ruthlessly searching for new people and resources to exploit. Now, with most of the world conquered, a new stage of development has seemingly begun. The next stage of capital’s crawl is a sort of corporal colonialism, taking aim at the bodies and minds of its human subjects and pushing its way into the psyche. Capitalism has become, as Mark Fisher so succinctly framed this transformation in 2009, “a monstrous, infinitely plastic entity, capable of metabolizing and absorbing anything it comes into contact with.” But what does that look like, exactly? A flurry of headlines in recent weeks has brought me back to Fisher, and his revelatory book Capitalist Realism. Two stories in particular serve as particularly good examples of what Fisher is describing in his book. These stories are different, but what they have in common is this: they are all about the dream of improving one’s class position.. First, we will look at a group of franchisees who traded their savings for the dream of entering the capitalist class but ended up stuck in a near feudal arrangement. Next is the story of families spending tens of thousands of dollars on the dream that their child’s athletic prowess could bring them financial security, as well as a spot in the evaporating middle class. I want to examine these two stories not so much to form a particular argument but to create a waypost that shows us ‘you are here.’

They are smart, successful people. They are the matriarchs and patriarchs of middle class families with college tuition on the horizon. They are willing to reinvest their savings for the shot at becoming true capitalists, who don’t worry about money, and who send their kids to elite universities. Or maybe they are workers, tired of being forever exploited, looking for a way out and a way up. Knowing that they will never own a shred of their labor power, they want the opportunity to exploit someone else in order to raise their own station. Not like there’s any other way. With the willpower but no actual capital, they turn to the franchise business in hopes that they can hitch their wagon to a pre-established brand and trade a portion of the profits for the tools to become the king of a small kingdom.

For many, these dreams are quickly soured. David Dayen tells the story of one of these franchisees in his article “She Bought a Business. It Almost Killed Her.”(1) Carola Haugenau started a Bath Tune-Up franchise shortly after getting laid off during Covid. She made a hefty investment using her retirement, and set about running her new business. She studied all of the contracts and legal documents and was making what she thought was a rational decision that would bring her a healthy income. Quickly, the true parasitic nature of her relationship with the parent company was revealed. Unexpected fees, misleading information on prices, and lack of support from corporate meant that her business consumed her life and drained her savings. Any profit generated was immediately vacuumed up by JM Family Enterprises. Due to the destruction of business regulations over the past decades, she was trapped in her contract despite clear and repeated violations. The only way out was to buy her freedom, an impossible feat when she had already lost $550,000. 

Stories like Carola’s are common among franchise owners. The balance of power between franchisor and franchisee has shifted greatly toward the former in recent years. Research shows that “Exclusive dealing, exclusive supply, and, to a lesser degree, full-line forcing are arguably constitutive of the franchising business model, and they all have high and more-or-less constant prevalence… Full-line forcing means the franchisee must offer all the products associated with that brand, not only the profitable ones.”(2) The situation is nearly feudal. These people purported to be business owners have absolutely zero control of their business, from the tile floors used in the lobby to the CRM software used to transact deals, lose money even if they generate profits. They are contractually obligated to surrender all profits to their parent company, who gives nothing in return. Pursuing the American  dream has opened their spirit and resolve to the whims of the market. This is not a metaphor. Carola’s failed Bath Tune-Up business destroyed her relationship with her family and brought her to the brink of suicide. Uncontrolled, capital will squeeze every drop of value out of a person and leave them a husk, physically and mentally deteriorated. 

When you’re a kid, it feels good to be good at something. Sports offer a sense of identity and belonging for children, as well as a place to exercise and use their bodies. And every parent is happy to see their child make memories on the field.  But maybe your kid is different. They’re good, really good. And dedicated, too. They outgrow the local baseball diamond and need to join a travel team. Club fees, private coaching, hotels all add up. But you, the parent, have a dream of your own. You want to send your kid to the best possible school, give them the best possible shot in a future where security is less and less of a guarantee. Because your yearly raise doesn’t even beat inflation, the only way you could hope to send them to school with a full ride in athletics. The recruiter said your kid has star potential, and they really do seem to be succeeding. Rising in the competitive ranks, the costs climb ever higher. And you start to notice that it seems like every other kid is told the same story as yours. The sobering reality that only a small fraction of these kids will ever get a full ride, and what once seemed like an investment is revealed for what it truly is: a cash generating machine fueled by your child’s dreams and your belief in them.

The dreams of a child, of a family, are so sacred that the thought of manipulating them for profit is sickening even to those that sing the praises of enterprise. The mind of a child should be a strongly protected territory. The childhood dream of a career in professional sports, which is usually treated as a pipe dream that serves as a driver for the kid’s personal development but isn’t often taken too seriously in young kids, has become the territory of a small number of private equity firms. They set up families to believe that their child has a chance to make it out of their small town on a full ride, or maybe even a pro contract, just as long as they pay the hefty fees. Fees that will be worth it if their kid ends up making millions in the big leagues one day. But they aren't just telling this story to the few children with elite potential. They're selling this dream to every family, leading them on to extract cash from them. According  to the New York Times, the average family spends around $1,000 dollars a year per child on sports, with some families opting for wildly expensive private schools focused on athletics with tuitions as high as $85,000 a year.(3) With municipal budgets for little league sports already dwindling, these private leagues who prey on families steal away the last remaining participants. This leaves families with the ability to pay to start footing the bill, and leaves poor families out entirely. This PE-fueled nightmare is the result of the weakening of civil society in the neoliberal era. The supposed family-loving politicians of the 80’s set into effect a chain reaction which led to the market tearing up communities like piranha, bleeding families dry. The children leave scarred too, with the mental pressure from families and coaches leading to a spike in eating disorders among other mental health conditions. (4)

How do we wrestle back the consecrated space that is human consciousness? Of that I am not sure. But these stories, as much as they disturb me, also drive deeper within me the our shared belief that capitalism must be transformed. Stories like these call into question how anyone could not see through the veil to a world outside of capital. A veil so thin, like tissue paper, that a drop of water could tear it away. How can these people who overwhelmingly still support the system that has cast even those who were privileged in an early form of capitalism, into the underclass, still not see the trick being played on us all?