Most of us reading this have no doubt benefitted from Capitalism. We’re probably sitting in a warm, dry house or room, staring at a good to moderate computer system. We’ve probably got a coffee close by, and in about two hours, we’ll probably have some lunch.
This is my setup anyway, and yes, I’m very, very lucky! I’m the product of thousands of years of colonial exploitation, both at home and abroad, by my country.
I’m British, and at one time — as the saying goes — the sun never set on the British Empire. Unless you were a slave that is. Then it rose and set before and after you started your hellish day picking cotton or sugar for the companies that built it.
Fast-forward 300 years, and this is the reason I’m able to sit here in relative comfort and write these words. This is a fact. I accept it, but I’m not proud of it. And like the slaves, I’ll never get out of it, even if I wanted to.
Many might argue, why would you? You’ve got it all — you’re lucky. You’re free! It’s a fair point. But is that it? Just because I’m the product of years of exploitation, does that mean I should sit on my ass and simply accept it?
I don’t have children, so I can’t pass on this wisdom that they should be grateful. I could, of course, tell them that they should do something about it. Fight the cause! But what if they started asking me some awkward questions, like