Sunday 12 July 2015

THE MONOPOLISTS Mary Pilon

THE MONOPOLISTS: Obsession, Fury and the Scandal Behind the World’s Favourite Board Game
MARY PILON
Bloomsbury, 2015, 313 pages

Review by Phil Shannon 

Monopoly has never been just a boardgame, not to the American feminist and anti-monopolist, Lizzie Magie, who invented the game’s forerunner in 1904, nor to the US corporate giant, Parker Brothers, which, in seeking to gain a copyright monopoly on Monopoly, stole Magie’s idea in 1935 and ideologically cleansed her game from an anti-monopolist instructional tool into an endorsement of monopoly capitalism.

The journalist, Mary Pilon’s, history of Monopoly’s copyright scandals narrates the American origins of the hugely popular boardgame, better known in Australia through the version licensed to English manufacturers with its London properties from Old Kent Road to Mayfair.

With powerful monopolies dominating key industries and unrestrainedly gouging consumers at the end of the nineteenth century, strategies to ‘bust the trusts’ were being sought by progressives, amongst them Henry George, the ‘single-tax’ politician who proposed to reduce poverty by taxing only property and leaving working class income untaxed.

Magie was a single-taxer who invented her Landlord’s Game to spread the Georgist word.  Her game had two sets of rules – one for a single-tax economy where no player could monopolise wealth, and one for monopoly capitalism where all wealth concentrated to just one player.  Modified, hand-made versions flourished during the next three decades.

Amongst the commercial fans of Magie’s game was a Depression-hit salesman, Charles Darrow, who claimed it was his invention when he sold his intellectual property rights to the game, which he had patented as  Monopoly, to Parker Bros. for $7,000 in 1935.  The rebadged game went on to sell and make millions for Parker Bros.

Parker Bros., who were aware that Darrow’s patent had been fraudulently obtained, were vigilant in protecting their sole control of their ill-gotten money-spinner.  Rival financially-themed games, and even unrelated games with the ‘-opoly’ suffix in their title (including Theopoly, designed by priests), were bought out or legally threatened for patent infringement.

The most serious potential obstacle to Parker Bros.’s bogus copyright was taken care of by paying the game’s true inventor, Magie, a measly $500 for her original patent for her Landlord’s Game, allowing it and its anti-big-business ideology to fade into obscurity whilst its monopolist set of rules became the sole set of Monopoly rules, endorsing corporate concentration and greed as players aimed to bankrupt all others.

When a new ideological challenge emerged in the 1970s from an anti-trust economics professor and anti-Vietnam-War activist, Ralph Anspach, with his Anti-Monopoly, Parker Bros. deployed the usual threat of litigation, supplemented by commercial intimidation of Anti-Monopoly’s potential distributors and sellers, and a vindictive display of corporate power in ostentatiously burying 40,000 copies of Anti-Monopoly in a Minnesota rubbish dump when an early court decision went Parker Bros. way.  In 1983, however, after an epic eight year legal stoush, Parker Bros. finally lost their case against Anti-Monopoly, an appeals court ruling that Monopoly’s Georgist progenitor had long been in the public domain, rendering Monopoly’s trademark void. 

Like Anspach, Pilon is enamoured of the anti-monopolistic battle by little business against big business.  Capitalism, they believe, can be beneficial for all if only the “right to compete” were not stymied by the titans of corporate America and their profit-bloating, restrictive copyrights.  Even in an oligopoly of small entrepreneurs, however, the profit principle is behind the harm the capitalist economic system does and this needs to be challenged.  There is a boardgame, and concept, for that - the Marxist academic, Bertell Ollman’s, Class Struggle – one to which all the players exploited by capitalism can share common ownership.

Friday 3 July 2015

SELLING STUDENTS SHORT Richard Hil

SELLING STUDENTS SHORT: Why You Won’t Get the University Education You Deserve
RICHARD HIL
Allen&Unwin, 2015, 227 pages

Review by Phil Shannon

‘When I leave, it will be like it never really happened’, bemoans a dejected student to Griffith University Associate Professor, Richard Hil, in Selling Students Short, his investigation into the “hollowing out” of the modern university education experience in Australia.  Many of his student interviewees report a similar alienation, a lack of connection with other students, the atrophy of teacher-student interaction and an uninspiring, narrow pursuit of a vocational qualification that together make for the social and intellectual “blandscape” of today’s campuses.

Personal enlightenment and the public good have both evaporated from “University Inc.” which has been re-purposed for the needs of free enterprise rather than free enquiry.  Market values, corporate culture and a “tighter tertiary-industry fit” are ascendant in what are now “job-training centres and feeders for the industrial economy”, pumping out credentialed ‘products’ (graduates) fit for purpose (industry needs).

Starved of significant government funding, Australia’s universities have taken on the trappings, and soul, of the corporate world.  Courses which lack immediate economic utility are culled whilst multi-million dollar marketing budgets entice “tertiary shoppers” in a “mad scramble” for undergraduate market share.  Brand promotion, free iPads and other loss-leader enticements are used to attract enrolments to secure the revenue stream from hefty tuition fees.  The removal of government caps on student numbers has invited universities to take in anyone, including the sub-literate and semi-numerate.  Student quantity is valued over quality.

Crammed into overcrowded classes, the student hordes are taught by an army of 67,000 low-wage casual teachers, stressed by oppressive administrative and bureaucratic demands.  This academic proletariat is heavily populated by a glut of PhD post-graduates, trained in their redundant droves for prestigious university research jobs they will never get by university administrations because they attract rare government funds of $100,000 each.

Amongst the most aggrieved of Australia’s university students are the 223,000 international students (one quarter of the total student population).  This particular income river is highly prized by university accountants because of international student fees which are  up to three times those for domestic students.  Fraudulent entry processes which falsify academic records and English language skills let in the unsuitable, wastefully divert resources into intensive remediation, and encourage plagiarism and “soft assessment”.

Compounding the decline in the quality of education, campus culture withers due to the time pressures of employment (80% of students work to support the costs of their study), resulting in missed classes and rising drop-out rates, especially for the bargain-basement education offered by on-line tuition.  To cap it all off, unemployment, or lack of employment in their chosen field, awaits many graduates, whilst all are mugged by a long-term debt of up to $100,000.

The corporatisation of higher education results in the depoliticisation of university life, churning out graduates with the professional skills needed to administer, but not critically challenge, the hegemony of “global capitalism”.  Universities now manufacture the politically passive brain-worker whereas they once produced critically aware citizen-graduates.

Hil laments the bygone age of the liberal university when the rigorous exploration of ideas in a “joyous, passionate and engaged passage through higher education” was assumed.  Hil’s book could have benefited from an historical analysis of the tension between, on the one hand, the university’s role in preparing the workforce essential to capitalism and, on the other, its antagonism to that system’s political-economic values.  This tension has been present from at least the time when universities were essentially elite finishing schools for the sons and, more rarely, daughters of the ruling class to the contemporary era of the university grinding out capitalism’s technical-managerial class.  Neo-liberalism has been very bad news for what was once a “community of scholars”.

A hopeful Hil notes that pockets of academic resistance remain, that student protest has not been extinguished and that the (market-agnostic) humanities still account for the majority of undergraduates who remain the least unhappy students because they are doing what they really love, irrespective of what the market deems directly utilitarian.  Hil’s fervent and deeply-felt book maps out the ground still to be fought over for the purpose of the modern university.