Human Goods

Dubai, by most accounts, is something of a fantasyland. Exploding with new money that begets uninhibited , almost Dr. Seussian, architecture and draws affluent business and pleasure-seekers from around the world, it has also, much like Las Vegas or Amsterdam, become what I like to call an exception zone. A playground of privilege, if you will, where things you might not do elsewhere become acceptable. Because, hey, it’s Dubai. The rules don’t apply in this surreal metropolis.

Except wherever money and power accumulate, exploitation almost always follows, flying under the radar and making both business and pleasure attainable. Night clubs pulse with military contractors, tourists, and Arab businessmen seeking easy sex with Iragi refugees. Filipina maids, obtaining jobs abroad so they can send money home to their children, are often abused (sometimes quite sadistically). There have been numerous cases of maids being thrown out the windows of lavish, otherworldly skyscrapers that peak up, Jetson-like, above the clouds on a foggy day.

But it makes a kind of sense– where there is excess, people become increasingly expendable. And easy to replace.

Glen Carey, for The Asian Sex Gazette, published an article on the trafficking of persons to Dubai:

Dubai has transformed itself from a trading village to the Persian Gulf’s financial and tourist hub with lower taxes and a more vibrant nightlife than other Gulf states. Bars heave with men drinking $10 beers and women in short skirts.

That’s attracted rich Saudis, US oil workers flush with cash after stints in Iraq, and bankers who are paid as much as 40 percent more than those in London or New York.

Affluence has increased the demand for laborers and housemaids, and the development of laws to protect them from exploitation hasn’t kept pace, the International Labor Organization said in an e-mailed response to questions.

Women from Asia and Africa often sign contracts to work as maids, waitresses, hairdressers and secretaries, only to have employers confiscate their passports and force them to work as prostitutes, the US report said. Others work excessive hours under the threat of mental, physical or sexual abuse until they can pay off recruitment costs.

According to the article, Dubai, which is ranked on the Tier 2 Watch List of the U.S. Trafficking in Persons report, is making an effort to curb the problem. Carey writes, “In July (2007), the UAE formed a committee of senior officials to combat human trafficking, and it has opened a shelter for abused women. In the past year it has closed 40 hotels and clubs that allowed prostitution, said Anwar Gargash, minister of state for Federal National Council Affairs in Dubai.”

Such efforts are well and good. But you have to wonder, as you do with Vegas, about how much the problem really can be eradicated when the whole culture of the place, the essence of it, what makes it saleable, what makes its market value shine, is precisely the fact that it assuages the guilt of the haves by promoting their entitlement to the labor and bodies of the have-nots and building on the delusion of the Western right to pleasure at all costs. Costs which usually remain invisible to most of us who can’t even imagine having to surrender the autonomy of our bodies and souls.

In the end, Dubai is an exception zone, yes. But only more obviously than the rest of the world we occupy.

A feature length documentary called Call and Response will be released this fall to rally action around modern-day slavery. Musician Justin Dillon decided to form a collective of musicians, including Imogen Heap, Moby, and Talib Kweli, to head this musical abolitionist movement. Also interviewed in the documentary are longtime anti-slavery activists Nicholas Kristof to Madeleine Albright to Julia Ormond.

According to the documentary’s website,

CALL+RESPONSE goes deep undercover where slavery is thriving from the child brothels of Cambodia to the slave brick kilns of rural India to reveal that in 2007, Slave Traders made more money than Google, Nike and Starbucks combined.

You can check out the film’s blog and even share your response to increasing slavery awareness on the site’s interactive “respond” tab.

(photo source: IKEA)

Robert Young Pelton’s bestselling guide to getting into, out of, and staying alive in the world’s most dangerous places does not include IKEA on a Sunday afternoon. Most people don’t stumble on minefields or receive ransom demands, but you still have to take a deep breath before going inside. Even from the parking lot, your skin starts to prick with the pressurized bustle of crowds and accumulation. Escalators criss-cross through the air above, carrying young couples in summer shorts with crabapple toddlers in tow through a maze of bedroom enclaves with fake books, fake televisions, clothing that is weirdly not for sale but seems shrewdly selected by a stylist for the room’s inhabitants that actually don’t exist.
Most of us are here for two reasons, the first being that there is something we want or think we need, and the second that, as first-world consumers, we have every right to get it. I woke up this morning bemoaning the lack of counter space in my kitchen. I had been intending to get into cooking, just as I had wanted to get into exercising a few months before and so had splurged on a gym that was ritzier than necessary, hoping the airy vibe would inspire me to hit the machines more often. As I attempted to slice bananas into my cereal on a meager plot of linoleum wedged between the microwave and the stove, I figured I’d be much more inspired to chop vegetables that evening if I had a little more space. Maybe a smooth wooden countertop, room to spread out, something comfortable. So I grabbed my keys to go fulfill that vision, a vision made possible by IKEA.
IKEA’s proclaimed mission is to bring aesthetically pleasing, well-designed furniture to everyday people at affordable prices — eye-popping prices, in many cases. I bump along through the shoppers strewn among displays of bathroom mats and living room sets, amassing ideas of how to brighten up a room here and there, or even totally overhaul it on the cheap. I have to make my way through dozens of versions of living space before I reach the faux kitchen sets, and not without feeling an onslaught of materialism ripple through me. That is indeed a neat idea for creating more sitting space in the living room. Maybe I would be happier with desk space like that. And it’s not an astronomical reach, of course. I mean, I’m an everyday person, right?
But there’s a small, sneaky conundrum that creeps into my heart. How come it’s all so cheap, after all? What really makes that possible? I pay extra for fair trade coffee because marketers have made it easy for me to choose a brand that’s fair. So what’s the deal with furniture?

There’s nowhere people like to point accusing fingers more than at corporate America when it comes to catch phrases like “social responsibility.” This shift in consumer values has forced U.S. companies to better account for what happens along their supply chains, and companies like Nike and Wal-Mart have both faced customer boycotts for sketchy labor conditions among the lowest echelons of their production chain.

Robert Strand, a teacher of business ethics at the University of Minnesota’s Carlson School of Management, researched the Scandinavian approach to corporate responsibility as a U.S. Fulbright Scholar to Norway. One of his initial mistakes when first exploring the issue was that he was digging around for responsibility clauses as add-ons to already existing corporate policy. American companies seemed to be tacking these gimmicky “extras” on like mad, so he wondered why he wasn’t seeing the same things happen in Norway.

What Strand found was that Scandinavian companies, including IKEA, were committed to a “triple bottom line,” a way of framing success that is not measured by next quarter’s profits alone, but a balance between economic, social, and environmental factors. Strand credits much of this to more entrenched values of social justice in Scandinavian cultures that benefit stakeholders – including employees, communities, and production workers, to name a few – as much as they do shareholders.

With stores in 24 countries throughout the world, IKEA reported $29 billion in revenue last year. Anyone who’s ever been anywhere near Scandinavia knows that that the affluent countries that make it up are anything but cheap. Salaries are high and labor laws generous, so IKEA moved its production to lower-cost regions to produce lower-cost goods. Makes sense.

Except the developing world taps an entirely new well of nightmarish problems when it comes to monitoring human rights and environmental safety. Take, for starters, the “carpet belt” of Uttar Pradesh.
There are 27 million slaves in the world today, and at least half of them live in India. Many are children, and in states like Northern India’s Uttar Pradesh, it’s almost impossible to monitor labor conditions. This is partly due to the fragmentation of production. UNICEF figures identify as many as 525,000 weavers across the belt.

“The production of carpets in India is spread over large geographical areas and divided into many small units,” IKEA spokeswoman Marianne Barner writes. “Sometimes right down to individual looms in villages scattered across the countryside.”

The nature of the beast, then, is that it’s impossible for IKEA to fully monitor the working conditions of those at the bottom of the supply chain. But what’s unique about the blue-and-yellow giant is that it has partnered with organizations like UNICEF to work out strategies to tackle rights violations as best it can, rather than throwing its hands up with the defense that the problem is just too big.
It’s common, when sweatshops and child labor are exposed somewhere in the supply chain of U.S. companies, to reflexively cut off those suppliers like gangrenous appendages that threaten the grail of positive branding. But all too often, this actually further jeapordizes the welfare of children, who are considered stakeholders. They are scuttled from sweatshop to sweatshop, or, if production in the area is completely shut down, some children find themselves involved in survival sex.
IKEA’s corporate social responsibility code is unique in the way it recognizes this complexity – how poverty, exploitation, and lack of education are all interwoven. When IKEA inspectors unearth instances of child labor, instead of severing the connection in a flush of PR anxiety, IKEA works with suppliers to reshape their treatment of children and labor conditions, and even sends the kids to school. It’s about reforming, improving, making good on a genuine value of accountability. Not carefully maintaining a corporate image with hedge-clippers.
Great, I think. Now I don’t feel bad about wanting that new kitchen counter, and being able to get it with a swipe of the card.
Being green and having a social conscience are all too often temporary fads that you can frivolously clip on like earrings, and as I weave through conversations among other IKEA shoppers who sound like they’re toying with greenness as the season’s new accessory, it strikes me, in a sheepish, sinking way, that maybe the corporations are a lot more responsible than we are. Maybe we point fingers at “big this” and “big that” simply because it’s easy.

I sit on the wide hardwood floors of my apartment – beautiful floors that stretch across four rooms for one person – and furrow my eyebrows at the Swedish cartoon instructions on how to assemble my pretty new counter amid an explosion of nuts and bolts, and I realize something. The conundrum, even after assurances of broad-based, sincere and effective corporate efforts that are surely paving goodness in the world, hasn’t resolved itself. It flaps its wings instead of settling, because the whole point is still missing, and my heart knows it. It knows my concern about social responsibility is outwardly focused, that responsible policy provides relief because it requires me to give up nothing. I have license to carry on the way I do with the assurance that I’m not harming anyone. Not really, anyway.
So I do carry on. I set up my counter. I give myself more space and convenience. I don’t learn to brook discomfort, because comfort remains so attainable. I slice those bananas with all the elbow space I need.

(Click here to watch a WCCO interview with Robert Strand)

Arthur Fournier, on the Huffington Post, responded to Dan Harris’ investigation into child slavery in Haiti in a recent Nightline special (see previous post on Human Goods).

Slavery, he says, is only the “tip of the ‘consequences-of-poverty’ iceberg”:

Given how little most Americans understand about Haiti and how this lack of understanding during the early years of AIDS led to stigmatization of Haitians that persists to this day, this is no small point - exploitation of vulnerable people has nothing to do with ethnicity or culture and everything to do with poverty and the survival choices poor people are forced to make …

Solutions, therefore must address conditions that make rural life insufferable - poor agricultural productivity, lack of education, high maternal and child mortality and lack of health care. Such models do exist.

Fournier is correct in identifying the scope of the problem (a scope so large that it’s questionable that Harris could have covered it in that much depth in a brief episode about Haiti).

Recently I had coffee with Ben Skinner, author of the new book “A Crime So Monstrous: Face to Face With Modern-Day Slavery.” We talked about his experience as a writer communicating the grief of others, about why the anti-slavery movement does make economic sense, and what’s being done to fight it. The conversation is broken into a couple of different articles for the Medill News Service. Just click on them to read more.

PART I: Eradicating slavery is not just moral, it makes economic sense too

The Roman Empire, at its height, was home to 2 million slaves. During the peak of antebellum slavery, 4 million people living in the American South had been bought or bred into slavery.

But in today’s world, we leave those figures in the dust. There are as many as 27 million slaves in the modern global village.

Author E. Benjamin Skinner dedicated the last 5 years of his life to finding out why. His new book, “A Crime So Monstrous: Face to Face With Modern-Day Slavery,” spans five continents, exploring what the lives of today’s slaves look like, who it is that’s enslaving them, and the role they play in the world economy.

“The devaluation of human life is incredibly pronounced,” Skinner writes, observing the gulf between the value of an American slave in 1850 (about $40,000, adjusted for inflation) and the value of a 9-year-old Haitian girl he is able to bargain down to $50.

Although he didn’t actually buy her, it helped him learn how recognizing and understanding slavery is like going “through the looking glass.” He sat down with Medill Reports to talk about what it looks like from the other side.

(READ MORE…)

Skinner got his first real exposure to modern-day slavery while working for Newsweek in South Sudan. (Photo courtesy of Ben Skinner)

PART II: One author gives voice to the voiceless, and finds his own along the way

E. Benjamin Skinner has stood in the parched desert of Southern Sudan, where thousands of people over the past two decades have fallen prey to violent slave-raiders.

He’s waited in the murky courtyard of a makeshift Romanian brothel, noticing the way sewage squeezed through clear plastic piping on the outside of a building where pimps were forcing makeup onto a mentally challenged girl they tried to sell him.

He’s witnessed the way Haitian child slaves double as sex toys because they’re “there for that,” and the way generations of Indian untouchables are bonded to the endless sweaty work of smashing rocks into sand.

And he’s seen how these slaves are sometimes taken to the United States, too—raped and enslaved in a Florida suburb.

He has seen all of these things. He has known those who survived them, and those who probably won’t. And now he’s stepped up to the challenge of how to tell their stories to the world.

Skinner talked to Medill Reports about the writer’s responsibility to communicate suffering with sensitivity and truth.

(READ MORE…)

(map by Christa Hillstrom and Kevin Janowiak)

Part III: Go deeper

The more in depth response to the question of economic sustainability:

Medill Reports: Here in Chicago, the Archdiocese has an anti-trafficking task force and one leader has pointed out what an economically sustainable industry slavery is. And on the other hand, he said, fighting it is not economically sustainable, it takes huge amounts of commitment, some reprioritizing of resources, and it has to be made an issue. Is that something you see as a challenge?

Ben Skinner: I think we have to change our conception of it here. We have to look at fighting slavery, and harnessing some of the lessons that the good sustainable development organizations have learned in fighting absolute poverty. And again, fighting the two things are different, but there are many, many things that are similar. I mean, we’re talking about access to credit, and credit that doesn’t come from a human trafficker. And so, we’re talking about micro-credit organizations in some instances, and we’re talking about mini-credit organizations, because these people will have no collateral whatsoever. These are not people that would normally be found by the Grameen Bank or by BRAC or by these other organizations that deal with this.

But at the same time, what I found in Northern India were examples of credit unions that had grown up around these quarries that were entirely self-sustaining. The key to freedom here was there would be one or two people were able to pull together, you know, just one or two rupees… In other words, individually they would not be getting paid anything beyond subsistence but collectively they might be able to save one or two rupees a month. And they put that into a collective fund and eventually come up with enough money for one of them to buy a plot of land or something like this. I mean, a tiny plot of land. And then from that plot of land, that’s a piece of collateral. There’s also a much more effective way of dong this. This is what was going on in the 90s and it took years in order to get two people out of slavery, and then those one or two people out of slavery could help the others organize.

The much more effective way of doing it is to get good legal representation that presses the cause of the slaves with the district magistrates in India, and other local officials in other parts of South Asia, and says, Ok here’s the situation: You’ve got these quarry contractors who have this lease from the Raja to quarry on this land. The thing is, it’s forest land, it’s not owned by the Raja. The largest landowner in India is the state. So these quarry contractors are there illegally.

Now even if you’re not going to stop quarrying from going on in forest land, which you should be, let’s make this fair and give the workers, the people who have lived here for generations, title to the land (or anyway, in this case lease to the land). So this is not even a question of their owning the land – it should be a question of their owning the land—but it’s getting lease to the land so they can work it. And once they get that, then they can keep the products of their own labor. And it’s a legal process that, you know, given the Indian courts it could drag on for decades, or if there are good lawyers who press the case and if you get the right magistrates involved you can get this done in a matter of months. In the cases I looked at in India, they managed to get this through in a matter of months.

So, legal rights, property rights, matter a great deal. If the private property rights of the poorest of the poor are respected, recognized, and enshrined by the state, if those who have squatted on that land for generations are given title to that land, they will for the first time in their lives have access to an asset. And with that asset, they can leverage capital. They can leverage credit. And slowly, they can begin to build wealth and pull themselves out of slavery.

MR: I imagine that people here, when they hear how relatively little money is needed to pull people out of slavery, want to know what they can do to contribute. What do you tell people?

BS: Well, the simplest thing, even if you’re not going to dedicate your life to this or you’re not going to go overseas to free and rehabilitate slaves, the critical thing is contributing to some of the very good organizations that do work on this. And the organizations that have dealt with modern-day slavery, some of them have been around for centuries, in the case of Anti-Slavery International. Anti-Slavery International is the oldest human rights organization in the world. And I’ve been really involved with Free the Slaves.

Read an excerpt of Ben’s book

The people of Afghanistan have never gotten a break. Newsweek recently reported on the “Opium Brides of Afghanistan,” referring to the now relatively common practice of poppy farmers selling off daughters to their debtors because the poppy market– a huge cash crop in many parts of Afghanistan– hasn’t been bringing in adequate money since the war started.

Yeah, things were bad before. Add to it the global crisis over skyrocketing food prices. For this Afghan father, interviewed by IRIN, it became “like selling your heart!”

(source: IRIN humanitarian news and analysis)

SHEBERGHAN, 18 May 2008 (IRIN) - Sayed Ali (not his real name) said he sold his 11-year-old daughter, Rabia, for US$2,000 to a man in Sheberghan city, Jawzjan Province in northern Afghanistan to feed his wife and three younger children.

With food prices in Afghanistan having soared over the past few months and the 40-year-old father unable to find work, he said he had no other choice but to sell his daughter to save his family from starvation.

“Even animals don’t sell their children, because they love them and want to die for them, not to mention human beings. For too many days I stood next to roads and asked people for work, but always ended up disappointed. I couldn’t go home empty-handed and disappoint my starving children, so I used to scavenge in garbage and collect leftover food.

“I would lie to my family and say I bought them food from the market. But now it’s even hard to find anything edible in the garbage because of [increasing] food prices. People now eat all their food because it’s very expensive and also the numbers of those who scavenge in garbage has increased.

“Because I am illiterate, no one will give me a job. I am illiterate because of war and poverty. I didn’t go to school because my parents wanted me to work. My children also don’t go to school and they’ll also be brought up illiterate like me.

“How can someone sell his own child? It’s like selling your eyes or selling your heart!

“As no one would give me work I had no other option but to sell my lovely daughter. I sold her only to save the rest of my family. I sold her only to buy food for my younger children who otherwise would have died from hunger.

“I know people will say I am a cruel and merciless father who sold his own child, but those who say so don’t know my hardship and have never felt the hunger that my family suffers.

“I know other poor people who don’t have children and say, if necessary, they will blow themselves up [in a suicide attack] and kill other people in order to feed their families.

“I hope the government will hear my voice and help people like me to find jobs and feed our families.”