Author Archives: Alberto

Love kintsugi: how polyamory is making me better at dealing with heartbreaks

Kintsugi is a Japanese technique for repairing broken pottery with seams of gold. Kintsugi-repaired objects are often achingly beautiful. The break is not only made visible, but, in a sort of reversal, becomes the most precious part of the formerly broken object, ennobled by the precious material. As a practice, it implies embracing imperfection and mutability, a commitment to keep on cherishing the object after it lost its pristine-ness.

We all carry a precious item in our earthly journey: our own heart. And almost all of us have had it broken at least once. Polyamorous folks, perhaps, more than most. To me, that’s inevitable: polyamory amplifies everything, the good and the bad, the peaks and the slumps, the joys and the struggles. The good much more than compensates for the bad, which is why many of us are happy with being poly. But that does leave us with the problem of dealing with heartbreaks. Picking up the pieces. Shaking off the dust. Licking your wounds. And moving on.

The question is how to do it. You could aim for perfect healing (“I’m totally over her”), or even immunization (“that was a mistake. I will never repeat it”). You could attempt a cleanup and removal (“get her out of my system”, “out of sight, out of mind”).

I don’t want to do any of that. I don’t want to get over the people I love, or ever be immune to what, in them, made me fall in love in the first place. And certainly I do not want them out of my life. I want an arrangement where each one of us can still have feelings for the other (if that is what she or he wants), without anyone getting hurt.

Which leaves me with a Kintsugi-like approach. This always felt the most natural one for me. As I progressed through my love experience – which was fairly troubled, as you might expect from someone who is trying to live monogamously, while tending to fall in love with more than one person at a time – I noticed that I kept very good relationships with my ex girlfriends. It made sense: below the layer of grief, they were still amazing women. The fact that it had not worked between us did not make them any less amazing. And yes, some of them might have not done everything super right by me – but so what? I, too, am very far from perfect. Any wrongdoing seemed small and unimportant compared to what we had shared. We could go on and be friends, and generally we did.

As I became aware of polyamory, I learned that poly people like to say that “relationship don’t end, they just change”. Maybe so, but recasting a romantic partner as a friend is a deep change, one that contains many ends. Many thing you will never more share. Every polyamorist I know can testify that “change” can break your heart as bad as  “end”.

But here’s the interesting thing: the polyamory framework taught me that romantic relationships are not necessarily a package deal. Human connection has many dimensions, from romance to friendship, from sex to living together, from co-parenting to shared finances. You can connect with your partner in all these dimensions, but you can just as well connect only in some of them. What was going on with my former lovers, I realized, is that my romantic feelings for them had unbundled from those other practical dimensions of coupledom, except friendship. But they were still there: I still loved them.

This has not changed, and by now I don’t think it ever will. As I consider these wonderful women I have had the good fortune to be in relationships with, I can, still now, see exactly why I fell in love with them. Whatever it was (and it is different for different people), they still have it, even if we have changed so much. So, it makes perfect sense that I still love them, even though I can no longer be with them. Some of them I have loved for twenty years after the actual breakup. I will love them until the day I die. There is admiration for them in there, and some longing too, a sort of sweet ache in the place they once occupied in my heart.

This means my heart is no longer broken, but neither is it whole. It got broken by our breakup, and then it healed,  but not perfectly. I will always wear the scar. I want to wear the scar. It is a way to honor what we had, and honor the breakup itself as a step towards a new life, and keep both in my heart going forward. And if she is happy now, that helps – it means the breakup was for the better, it brought good things to her.

I expect that my heart will get broken again. Polyamory is difficult to get exactly right, and there is no book to do it by. It would be foolish to expect a 100% success rate going forward. But I am no longer afraid of breakups. I know they will feel awful, of course. But I will be ready. Like a Kintsugi master, I will pour molten gold in the fissures in my heart. This way, I honor the relationship that was, and accept and embrace its new phase. The heart itself – it won’t be whole, ever again. But it will shine.

The Somerville files: a dyadic approach to legislating on polyamorous domestic partnerships

The city of Somerville, Massachussets, has recently been in the news. It appears to be the first city in America, and possibly in the world, to have made legal provisions for polyamorous domestic partnerships – what most Europeans would call “civil unions”.

This story is fascinating, one of the less expected outgrowth of the SARS-COV-2 situation. The new regulation appears to have been rushed through because Somerville had no provision for civil partnerships at all, even for monogamous couples. As COVID hit town, the city council moved to make sure that non-married people in de facto couples could access each other’s health insurance. As the council was drafting the ordinance, a councilor called J.T. Scott suggested that it could be made more inclusive by tweaking the language to include polyamorous live-in partners: for example, replacing “both partners” with “all partners” as appropriate. The move went through.

This is great news for poly people everywhere, and Mr. Scott earned himself plenty of kudos; but I won’t be discussing the Somerville story in this post. I have a more urgent concern: I have come across a brilliant analysis of how to write effective legislation to implement polyamorous domestic partnership. We owe it to a longtime polyamory activist that goes by the nom de plûme Infinity_8p. I read it in the PolyAmory Researchers mailing list,  which is members-only. Infinity_8p graciously granted  me the permission to reproduce it.  In a nutshell, the author thinks that polyamorous partnership are best implemented as multiple dyadic partnerships, and not as a single multiparty partnership.

It is evident from the legislative history and the final result that little or no deep thought was given to the task of finding the best way to extend domestic partnership to the poly community. Nevertheless, it appears to me that under Somerville’s ordinance, users can correctly create accurate legal representations of their own polycules by 1) limiting each domestic partnership to two participants, and 2) executing as many domestic partnerships as needed in order to correctly represent their polycule. Thus a “N” polycule or a triangular polycule would execute three domestic partnerships and a “V” polycule would execute two. Attempting to use a single domestic partnership to cover the entire polycule is inappropriate, as it would result in unwanted effects. Suppose we have an “N” polycule: A-B-C-D, where A is directly linked to B but not to C or D. With multiple DPs, only B can make life-or-death decisions on A’s behalf if A is hospitalized, which precisely follows A’s preference. Under a blanket DP, C and/or D could make those life-or-death decisions about A, regardless of A’s wishes. Furthermore, consider the termination provision of Somerville’s ordinance. If any participant in a DP dies, the DP is terminated immediately and its participants may not create another DP for 90 days afterward. Under a blanket DP, the rest of the polycule is left without any legal representation if a single member happens to die. With multiple DPs, the death of a single member only affects the DPs linking the deceased member to specific other members of that polycule, and all DPs between living members of the polycules remain fully intact, without interruption.

Infinity_8p thinks that the Somerville ordinance is compatible with both models. If Alice is a partner of Bea who is a partner of Connor, who in turn is a partner of Alice, and the three of them share the same address, they could:

  1. Implement one single partnership involving the three of them;
  2. Implement three partnerships involving, respectively, Alice and Bea, Bea and Connor, and Connor and Alice.

Infinity_8p thinks that the second solution is more robust and in the end more appropriate. I tend to concur (network scientist here!). Full analysis in this guest post.

Euro coins and banknotes

On Modern Monetary Theory, science fiction and where to look for the violence

I have been aware of the existence of Modern Monetary Theory for a while. It’s hard not to, especially now. SARS-COV-2 has convinced central bankers and heads of government to magick into existence trillions of Euros in relief packages almost overnight, with very little hand wringing on public deficits. In a way, we live in a MMT world now.

But I am lazy, and so I waited for the release of a book aimed at the general public as a primer. We now have one: Stephanie Kelton’s The Deficit Myth, released last week straight into the New York Times’s bestsellers list. I have read it. I imagine some of you have, too. So, we are ready to consider MMT as a potential building block of Sci-Fi Economics.

About Modern Monetary Theory

MMT’s main idea is: currency issuers can never, by definition, run out of the currency they issue, as long as that currency is “full fiat”, not pegged to something else (like gold or another currency). This has profound implications:

  1. A currency-issuing government does not spend tax revenue. Rather, it spends money into existence and taxes it out of existence.
  2. A currency-issuing government budget deficit is just a number on a spreadsheet, and has no economic significance.
  3. If a currency-issuing government issues the currency commonly accepted as payment for international trade, its foreign trade deficit is also just a number that has no economic significance. In today’s world, that would be the USA.
  4. Fiscal policy, not monetary policy, is the main tool for government intervention in the economy. Used well, it opens up a much broader array of outcomes than we are accustomed to seeing. More on this later.
  5. Inflation is a potentially serious problem, because a currency-issuing government could in principle stoke up a demand for more resources than are available in the economy, pushing prices up.
  6. However, inflation control as we do it today is inefficient. Moreover, it is inhumane. In many countries, authorities target a rate of unemployment that they think will not cause inflation (NAIRU). In Kelton’s vivid words, this policy “uses people as human shields against inflation”.

I find MMT compelling. It’s not even a theory, exactly: Kelton calls it a description. It’s based on accounting identities and careful consideration of the concrete legal mechanisms whereby the US Congress authorizes public federal expenditure, and the Federal Reserve issues and buys back securities. These are not theories or opinions, but facts. I cannot find any contestable claims here. So, at least for now, I accept that MMT holds true.

MMT and science fiction economies

Understanding the Public Service Employment program

I propose that some of the science-fictional economies we have been looking at are a good fit for MMT. It seems likely that those worlds are “MMT worlds”. To make this argument I have to go a bit deeper into MMT’s policy prescriptions.

MMT economists are fans of automatic stabilizers. These are components of public expenditure which react to the economic cycle, with no need for decision making. Taxes are an example: if the economy slows down and our income declines, our tax bill also declines, helping us to go through the difficult period.

The main policy prescription of The Deficit Myth is an unusual type of automatic stabilizer: a government job guarantee. The idea is this: the federal government hires anyone who is out of a job. It pays a not-very-attractive salary, but still a decent one, with health care and paid leave. When the economy is bullish, it is easy to find private sector jobs that pay better, so few people would want those government jobs. In a recession, though, many more people would take them rather than be unemployed. The number of people in these federal jobs, so, goes up and down according to the economic cycle, with no decision needed. This means perpetual full employment, which in turn means more buoyant consumption. This would help businesses get through the recession in a less traumatic way. Workers avoid great suffering and productivity decline associated to long-term unemployment.

Ok, but in practice what would these federal workers do? Kelton:

Several MMT economists have recommended that the jobs be oriented around building a care economy. Very generally, that means the federal government would commit to funding jobs that are aimed at caring for our people, our communities, and our planet.

There is a detailed proposal for such a program in the USA (report by Wray et. al.), called Public Service Employment (PSE). Its main policy objective is of course employment itself, but there is a list of additional ones:

  • To guarantee a basic human right to a job, as outlined in the UN Declaration of Human Rights and President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s call for an economic bill of rights.
  • To implement an employment safety net. […]
  • To serve the public purpose. […]
  • To be used as a vehicle for addressing other social ills—urban blight, environmental concerns, etc.

Only the federal government, as the currency issuer, can fund the PSE. But both Kelton and Wray insist that it should be up to the states and communities to decide what constitutes “public service” for them.

PSE is the cornerstone of MMT’s policy: if past experiences are anything to go by, it could employ between 5 and 25% of the labor force at any given time. That is a lot of people, and what they do matters. If we could really deploy this much workforce towards nonmarket objectives, there would be a lot we, as a society, could do.

Mariana Mazzucato rightly claims that innovation has not only a rate, but also a direction. MMT is compatible with expanding that statement: the whole economy has a direction, not just innovation. Given monetary sovereignty, policy makers can and should target objectives, or “missions” as Mazzucato prefers to say, that are not economic per se: go to the Moon, eliminate child poverty, beautify cities, reclaim ecosystems, abate aggressively CO2 emissions etc. This is what makes MMT so useful for sci-fi authors, and so attractive to me.

Provisioning, not paying

Kelton insists that, when it comes to public spending, “How will you pay for it?” is a meaningless question. Since currency-issuing governments create their own currency, by definition they pay for everything in the same way: they credit the Treasury account in the Central Bank. Treasury then goes on to use that account’s balance for paying salaries and bills. But there is a similar, meaningful question: “how will you provision it?” Which means: never mind financial resources, do the real resources actually exist to do what we want to do? Do we have enough skilled people, tons of steel, gigawatts of energy etc. to achieve our objectives? Are these resources lying fallow, or will we be competing for them with the private sector?

Kelton quotes excerpts from the speech president Kennedy addressed to Congress to ask it to approve the Apollo program. Kennedy used it to reassure representatives that America could put a manned flight on the Moon’s surface: the skills were there, the manufacturing capacity was there. He never mentioned money – he knew money not to be an issue.

A more passing reference is made at the WW2 wartime effort, the only time when America really achieved full employment. Again, what mattered to the strategists was provisioning the military: how many tanks can we make in a months? But wait, to bring them to Europe we will need extra ships – how many can we make of those? That depends on how many people we can hire in the shipyards and the steel mills providing them, which in turn depends on how much food and housing we can produce for the extra workers in those areas, and so on.

This is how the better thought-through science fiction economies work. Take Kim Stanley Robinson’s Mars Trilogy: in the first book, a hundred people and a lot of heavy industrial equipment land on Mars. Since on Mars there is nothing to buy, what they can do is limited by their resources.

In order to do anything (say, raising the athmospheric pressure as a first step towards terraforming) they need a habitable environment that protects them from cosmic radiation (or they will all soon develop cancer, and dead people do not terraform). But to build a habitable environment they first need to drill tunnels in the regolith, make enough air to pressurize them, and produce oxygen to make it breathable. This requires energy and plants. Fortunately, they brought nukes and a space greenhouse from Earth, but they need to manage them carefully across other possible (and competing) uses… you get the idea. Most of the Martian economy and society we see in the second and third book (except for people, since at some point Mars has strong immigration) are an outgrowth of the materiel and personnel landed in that one ship.

In economic terms, the Martian colonists are working with something similar to a Leontief matrix. So are the walkaways in Cory Doctorow’s *Walkaway". The latter have access to scavenging the default economy for unwanted resources, but at the end of the day they have to produce their own food, energy, vehicles, communication networks, with these things being both products and production inputs to other goods and services. Having transitioned to a moneyless economy, they face constraints in terms of real resources.

Other fictional worlds in sci-fi work have less of an explicit emphasis on Leontief-like input-output planning techniques. Still, they set themselves civilizational goals, and then shape their economies so that those goals can be attained. For example, the Acquis in Bruce Sterling’s The Caryatids is basically a gigantic operation to reclaim ecosystems lost to climate change and other man-made disasters. Earth superpowers in Paul McAuley’s Quiet War books and the Utopian Hive in Ada Palmer’s Terra Ignota have a similar attitude. All these are much more compatible with MMT than with standard issue neoclassical economics.

Where is the violence?

MMT could be an important piece of the completely different economic system so many of us are longing for. This is why we need to make sure we fully understand the conditions for it to work. Which brings me to the violence.

Vinay Gupta taught me to look for the violence implicit in societal and economic arrangements. This is important for those of us lucky enough to enjoy relative safety, stability and comfort, because it is tempting to assume that everyone is OK when we are. “The war has started – Vinay would say – and you did not notice because your side is winning.” So, where is the violence in an MMT world?

Why money is useful

According to MMT, a currency-issue government can never run out of the currency it itself issues. Moreover, that government is sure that everybody will always want more of that currency. Why? Because it demands people pay taxes to it, and those taxes must be paid in the government’s own currency. Why does this make the currency attractive? Because the government has the power, and the will, to harm those that refuse to pay taxes. According to MMT, taxes are not where government gets its money, because governments issue their own currency. They are there to make sure people accept that currency as payment. Without threat of violence, there is no currency in the MMT sense.

This view is fully consistent with historical evidence on how cash money was invented and adopted. I learnt it from David Graeber’s fantastic Debt. The First 5,000 Years. Here’s how it works: Athenian army engages in imperialistic expansion wars in the Aegean Sea. The problem is provisioning the army during the invasion, with the home agricultural land too far away. The solution is this: army attacks rival city, pillages its gold from temples, divides it up in small lumps, gives it to the soldiers. At the same time it announces that it is going to extract a tribute, in gold, from the occupied city. Athenian soldiers then walk up to farmers and exchange their gold against food. Farmers collect the gold and give it back to the Athenian occupation administration, which uses it to pay its goons and start the cycle all over again. Voilà: the occupied are now provisioning the occupants. Without violence, there is no cash.

The continuum of monetary sovereignty

The Deficit Myth repeats several times that MMT only applies to governments with “monetary sovereignty”. It then goes on to repeat that monetary sovereignty “is best thought of as a continuum”. A government has it if:

  1. It issues its own fiat, floating currency. This excludes local and city governments; states that use the currency of other states (like Costa Rica); states whose currency is pegged to the currency of other states (like Argentina before the corralito crisis); and the Eurozone countries, since the ECB, not they, is the issuer of the Euro.
  2. It does not carry heavy debt denominated in currencies other than its own. This excludes many middle- and low-income countries, like Mexico, Brazil and Indonesia.
  3. And then there is full monetary sovereignty. This term describes the USA’s unique position as the issuer of the currency used in international payments. They can ignore not only their internal budget deficit, but also their foreign trade deficit. In fact, the issuer of the global currency must have a trade deficit, otherwise there won’t be enough of that currency to carry out international trade. This is called the Triffin paradox.

It is easy to see that monetary sovereignty is highly correlated with sovereignty tout court. The stronger your economy, diplomacy and military, the more complete your monetary sovereignty. And the USA has by far the strongest military in the world. A good reason to accept the US dollar is that, if push comes to shove, the US might make you. A country could refuse to accept dollars as a payment, but it would probably suffer some diplomatic pressure, at least. It has even been claimed that the American invasion of Iraq was motivated by that country’s announcement, in 2000, that its oil exports were henceforth to be paid in Euro. Without a big military, there is no global currency.

To summarize…

MMT is an elegant, robust, pragmatic body of work in economics. It is heterodox, but solid and difficult to refute. It enables much more directionality in how we run our economies, and it allows a for a broader array of outcomes, including full employment. Its attention to real (rather than monetary) resources makes it a good candidate for running a sci-fi economy, especially in planet colonization scenarios.

At the same time, the acceptance of currency in MMT is predicated on the threat of violence. This is not to say that competing approaches (say, money supply theory) are any less violent. Nevertheless, when incorporating it in the systems we imagine in the Science Fiction Economics Lab, we need to pay attention to this violence, and make sure it is exercised with appropriate restraint, if at all.

Reposted from Edgeryders with minor modifications. Image: By Avij (talk · contribs) – Own work, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30112364