by Bruce Hood
The lawyers found that the intended use of the land did not really play a major role in people’s decisions but rather the length of occupation was the most significant factor. Around 20 per cent were willing to accept the $200,000 offer on the table, but 80 per cent wanted more. Over a third wanted another $100,000 and around 10 per cent overall said they would refuse to sell at any price: they felt it would be morally wrong if their family had lived in the house for a hundred years. However, this nostalgic attitude is not shared universally across cultures. With the Hong Kong territories reverting to Chinese rule in 1997, Hong Kong businessmen bought up historic properties in Vancouver during the 1990s. Rather than valuing the provenance of these historic buildings, they began tearing them down to erect so-called ‘monster houses’ that occupied most of the plots of land, much to the consternation of the local residents.34 This was partly an economic decision to maximize the use of land, but it also reflected a cultural difference. When it comes to buying houses, the Chinese typically prefer brand-new properties. A survey of Chinese potential property buyers looking for houses in the US revealed that they not only prefer new houses but the least important factor when it comes to buying a property is the character and uniqueness of the home, in comparison to Westerners who preferentially look for older buildings with charm.35 How odd it must seem to Eastern eyes when homeowners pay large amounts of money to reclamation yards to acquire and re-install second-hand original features taken from demolished houses!
Back in New London, the City Hall officials were not so sentimental. Susette Kelo eventually sold her house and moved to a new location in Connecticut. She is still bitter and feels her home was stolen. Despite the Supreme Court decision, her neighbour Mrs Dery was able to spend her remaining time in her home, dying in March 2006, eight months after the court ruling but before she was to have been removed forcibly. She died just a few feet away from where she was born the year the First World War ended.
Kelo’s little pink house did not eventually succumb to the wrecker’s ball. A local builder, Avner Gregory, purchased the house for $1 from the developers, dismantled it and reassembled it in downtown New London. He offered Susette the opportunity to rent it, but she turned down the invitation. She wanted to move on. Ironically, the little pink house has now become a visitor attraction, listed as one of Connecticut’s historic buildings at 36 Franklin Street.
As for the influx of wealth and redevelopment promised by the NLDC plan, the project collapsed after Pfizer decided to relocate with a loss of 1,400 jobs. The city spent $78 million bulldozing homes and preparing the area for development, and yet the land still stands empty save for a colony of feral cats that has taken up residency. Money had prevailed over sentimental attachment.
SHAKY FOUNDATIONS
Owning your own home is not just an economic statement but a psychological affirmation of identity. It is not uncommon for survivors of natural disasters, where homes have been demolished, to return even when they are housed in temporary accommodation. In 2016, the historic town of Amatrice in Italy’s Apennine mountain range was hit by a powerful earthquake and was almost completely flattened. At the epicentre of devastation, aerial photographs show only one modern building amid the rubble of the neighbouring medieval premises. Almost a hundred years earlier, the city of L’Aquila, near to Amatrice, lost around 30,000 lives following an earthquake in 1915. In 2009, L’Aquila was hit again with a loss of 300 lives. You might think that people would learn. The Apennines, like all mountain ranges, were formed by the constant clash of tectonic plates in the Earth’s upper crust, forcing the land mass to buckle and sheer upwards. This region sits atop the African and Eurasian continental plates. There have, and always will be, powerful earthquakes and eruptions – ‘geohazards’ – in Italy and yet the Italians are reluctant to move or reconstruct their villages with modern buildings designed to withstand earthquakes. It seems foolhardy.
There is an obvious financial incentive to keep the historic buildings that form a major part of Italy’s tourism industry, worth $180 billion annually, but there are also deeper issues of ownership that figure in the Italian psyche. Marco Cusso, an Italian structural engineer who specializes in earthquake damage, pointed out: ‘Our approach is not to demolish what is unsafe. We always try to fix or strengthen in order to keep it because most of these things are part of our identity. I don’t know if it’s right or not but it’s like that.’36
When people have occupied, lived and died in a particular area of land for generations, one can imagine their identity seeping into the land. To readily give it up or to sell it would be considered taboo as it would be a violation of its sacred value. People are willing to sacrifice their lives for their homeland even if they are offered alternatives that are much more useful in terms of fertility and resources. How else can we understand the conflict over land in Israel that to many outsiders looks like nothing more than barren desert?
Psychologist Paul Rozin looked at attitudes to swapping land among Israeli Jewish college students.37 In response to the question, ‘Is there any piece of land in Israel that you would never be willing to trade under any circumstance?’, 59 per cent answered ‘Jerusalem’. In response to the prospect of trading Har Herzl, Israel’s national cemetery in Jerusalem, which holds the remains of some major historical figures, 83 per cent of Israelis agreed that they ‘would never trade it for other land or anything else’.
Jerusalem is a fascinating, sacred city at the centre of the ancient world. Everywhere you turn, you encounter some holy site or ancient relic. It is also one of the most passionate places on the planet where conflicts and tensions over ownership, territory and control are constantly balanced on a knife edge. The Old City is carved up into four different quarters under the control of distinct religious groups – Armenian, Jewish, Christian and Muslim. Even the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is divided into different sections under the control of separate factions of the Christian faith. Depending on who you are, there are certain places you can and cannot go.
The Middle East is a complex cauldron of conflict where there does not appear to be any long-lasting co-operation and co-existence. Modern civilization began here in the Fertile Crescent over 7,000 years ago with the development of agriculture. With settlement and the accumulated wealth from agriculture and associated trade came the inevitable disputes over ownership. Ever since, there has been conflict in the region between warring factions, each with some historical claim. The Israeli–Palestinian situation is just another in a long line of bitter disputes. The State of Israel was created in 1948 for the surviving European Jews after the Second World War, but this involved taking over territory previously held by Palestinian Arabs. From the Palestinian perspective, this was theft of their land.
The word ‘intifada’ is an Arabic word derived from a verb meaning ‘to shake off’ and has come to refer to the Palestinian uprising against Israeli oppression. In 1987, the first Palestinian intifada took place to shake off the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and Gaza strip. Much of the disputed territories are poor quality land but their symbolic value is priceless. The second intifada, in 2000, was triggered by Ariel Sharon, an Israeli politician, visiting the Temple Mount in Jerusalem – one of the holiest sites in Islam. As a Jew, his visit to this sacred Muslim site was considered provocative and started a riot. What is remarkable is that, like much of Jerusalem, the Temple Mount is also venerated by Jews and Christians. Many of the holy sites in this ancient city are associated with historical events or individuals from the different religions and have changed hands multiple times over the centuries following various invasions and conflicts. Each side argues over the rightful ownership.
The wars in the Middle East might seem to be based on religious differences, but they are also all about control. However, because the conflict is framed in terms of religion and sacred values, each side is motivated by a deeper sense of ownership. You cannot trade identity. Negotiating a settlement will have to take into consideration the sa
cred value of the land under dispute. It would be naive to offer financial compensation or alternative relocations, because this would fail to take into consideration the emotional connection with the land. Indeed, any financial settlement would be regarded as sacrilegious by putting a price on something which should be priceless. So, each side is forced to continue fighting.
DOES OWNERSHIP MAKE US HAPPIER?
We extend our individual selves into the world through the power of ownership, and we signal our identity and status to others through our possessions. It is not so much the value of possessions we lose that affects us but the extent to which they represent who we are. This relationship varies individually as well as from culture to culture, but we all construct a sense of self to some extent through ownership. It explains our motivations to acquire more but also our reluctance to let go of what we have. If we are going to tackle territorial disputes, let alone the problem of relentless materialism and consumerism, then we need to understand this peculiar relationship that humans have with their stuff.
Our irrational behaviour arises because we identify too closely with what we think we own. There is an inherent irony operating here though. We overvalue what we have and are reluctant to let it go because it represents who we are, but we also easily get used to most of our possessions. We set out to acquire more stuff in a relentless, yet ultimately unfulfilling, quest to enhance who we are. This may lead us to feel more successful, but the paradox is that in accumulating more stuff, we are increasingly less satisfied.
No doubt, many readers will reject the claim that materialistic goals are unsatisfying. In fact, they may regard the underlying warning message of this book as not relevant to them at all. Many are convinced that they will be satisfied with owning more than they need as their whole motivation in life is premised on this belief. Ownership is central to our morality, politics and worldview, but the only way to settle the argument is to look at the data – not from one or two WEIRD studies but from as many studies by as many people as you can find investigating the link between materialism and well-being.
Such studies of all the available research are known as meta-analyses, which are the gold standard in science because, rather than relying on any one study, research group or individual scientist who may be biased to find a particular outcome, meta-analyses average results across large numbers of studies, thereby providing a much more balanced and accurate assessment of the field. And the jury is in. To date, the most recent and comprehensive meta-analysis – by Helga Dittmar and her colleagues from the University of Essex of over 750 measures from over 250 independent studies – demonstrates ‘a clear, consistent negative association between a broad array of types of personal well-being and people’s belief in and prioritization of materialistic pursuits in life’.38 This holds true irrespective of culture, age and gender. Some factors reduce the relationship but in no instance did the researchers find a positive relationship.
If we were content with ownership, then we would stop acquiring more stuff. But the combination of the thrill of the chase, the need for status and the crippling sense at the prospect of loss reveal that ownership is one of the strongest human urges and does not easily respond to reason. Of course, most of us think we are the exception, but then, that is why we are possessed.
Epilogue
RACE TO THE END
‘A person who owns a nice home, a new car, good furniture, the latest appliances, is recognized by others as someone who has passed the test of personhood in our society.’
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi1
For many people, our possessions prove our worth to society: the more we have the more worthwhile we are. This is wrong for a number of reasons, if not for the simple fact that ownership comes at a cost to society. If we value ownership simply for the sake of accumulated possessions we have, then we are validating behaviour which is ultimately harmful to others. The more we possess, the more inequality that creates. Not only is this morally questionable, environmentally disastrous and politically disruptive, but the science tells us that the relentless pursuit of possessions is unfulfilling and, for some, more miserable in the long run. We should live simpler, less cluttered, less competitive lives. Unfortunately, for most of us, it’s only at the end of our lives that we come to this realization.
But we can’t live without ownership either, as it is the basis for what holds our society together. Ownership is an incentive. We strive to improve our lot in life. People like success and are spurred on by ownership as reward for that effort. Innovation and progress are mostly the consequence of competition. When it comes to beating our rivals, we up our game and we expect the spoils of success. Nor are all the world’s most successful individuals blindly accumulating wealth just to sit on the biggest pile of money. The Giving Pledge, set up by Bill and Melinda Gates with Warren Buffett in 2010, which so far has 187 billionaires willing to give away their wealth, is an antidote to the cynical view that humans are incapable of changing their possessive nature. Many of these individuals realize that not only is inherited wealth unfair, but it can be a curse to their children by removing the motivation for individual self-fulfilment and achievement.
At both the individual and group level, ownership provides a mechanism for human progress, but it also harbours the potential seeds of destruction. We behave as if we are possessed – as if there is some external influence that is controlling us. This controlling influence has its roots in biology. We have seen how ownership emerged from a competitive drive that is inherent to all life on Earth. All animals compete, but those that live in social groups have evolved strategies to protect and share resources. Co-operation and sharing are found in other animals but ownership is a social contract that is uniquely human, since it requires brains capable of theory of mind, detailed communication of intent, predicting the future, remembering the past and understanding concepts of reciprocity, convention, inheritance, laws and justice. Non-humans may exhibit some of these skills in rudimentary form but only humans possess the full repertoire of components necessary for establishing the concept of ownership.
Ownership may be a mere human concept, as Bentham surmised, but it is a powerful enough idea to have enabled stable societies to emerge. Many other animals live in social groups, but they do not operate with the principles of ownership that enable legacies. In non-human societies, hierarchies are constantly shifting as each new generation battles for dominance. In human society, ownership provides mechanisms for relative continuity from one generation to the next when it comes to the distribution of limited resources. This stability within human societies is how our species transformed ourselves from nomadic hunter-gatherers into settled communities where agriculture, technology and education could thrive. In short, ownership enabled human civilization to become the establishment. But therein lies the problem. Establishments are resistant to change, which is why the inequality that ownership creates is so entrenched.
In 2017, a video called the ‘$100 race’ went viral with over 50 million views on social media.2 It dramatically illustrated how inherited wealth and privilege provided an unfair advantage in life. One hundred US teenagers were told to line up to race for a $100 banknote, but before they got started, the referee introduced a few conditions. If they answered ‘yes’ then they could take two steps forward. If the condition did not apply, they remained where they stood. Runners were told to take two steps forward if their parents were still both married. Take two steps forward if they had private education. Take two steps forward if they did not have to worry about money, and so on. After about ten such instructions, before the race even got started, the leaders out in front were predominantly white males, whereas those left back at the starting line were mostly people of colour. Despite their best efforts, the race was effectively over for them before it had begun. All the advantages that the leaders were given had nothing to do with aptitudes, abilities, individual choices or decisions. They were mostly to do with inherited wealth and all the opportunities an
d benefits it provides. How can those without these privileges pass the test of personhood when the odds are stacked so much against them? That’s why ownership perpetuates unfair societies.
Since the beginning of civilization itself, we have been considering the morality of ownership, and worrying about its costs. But I hope to have opened your eyes to the personal reasons why we are possessed. Ownership is not simply a moral and political issue. Rather, the psychology of ownership reveals something about what motivates us at our core. Possessions are a means of broadcasting our success. Like other animals, we signal in order to increase our chances of reproducing our genes, but our possessions satisfy a much deeper need to be valued by others beyond the family circle. Emotional attachment to immediate family is not uncommon in the animal kingdom but we humans uniquely seek emotional sustenance from society at large. We want strangers to notice us too. As Adam Smith pointed out, rich men glory in their ownership because they draw upon themselves the attention of the world. But not everyone can be rich, and so this creates distorted conditions of competition that no longer serve the biological imperative. Ownership has become a drive for recognition in its own right.
Our sense of self-worth is almost entirely defined by how we evaluate ourselves relative to others. As we noted, such comparison is a fundamental component in that our brains operate by calculating relative status as the most meaningful metric in life. A spike of electrical activity by a neuron is only meaningful in relation to its previous activity and that of its connected neighbours. This principle applies at every level, from the basic sensory processing of nerve cells all the way up the nervous system to the comparisons we make with others and the emotional lives we lead. If others praise us, we feel happy. If they ignore us, we feel despair.