One of the most common libertarian-adjacent anti-government arguments - or, uh, argument-like gestures (non-derogatory) - is: Boy, the DMV sure does suck! Or, if you prefer, Reagan’s old line about hearing that someone is from the government and here to help. The government is bad at doing things, its works are expensive and inefficient, everything it touches turns to shit. Sensible people will want to avoid engaging with it, and avoid sinking resources into it, as much as possible.
And there are obviously elements of truth to this, if you’re discoursing in good faith, although it’s just as obvious that the government regularly works miracles that go unappreciated because they get immediately folded into the status quo.
There has been a lot of talk, of late, about the growing popularity of socialism, and the way that all the kids treat “capitalism” as a dirty word, and the general contempt for private enterprise, etc. etc. Much of that talk has come from people who regard this as very bad and want to put a stop to it.
I respectfully submit: a large part of what’s going on is, well, enshittification. It’s increasingly noticeable that all the businesses with whom you interact are focused on extracting money from you in exchange for as little as possible. Quality sucks across the board. Customer service sucks. Shrinkflation, planned obsolescence, etc. etc.
Sensible people will want to avoid engaging with that, and avoid sinking resources into it, as much as possible!
And, yes, it’s true that business has also repeatedly given us marvelous miracles in recent years, and that those miracles go unappreciated because they get immediately folded into the status quo. But stomping your feet, and insisting that you don’t get enough appreciation for all that you do, is not a winning strategy in the arena of public opinion.
People who want to rehabilitate capitalism really might want to think about doing what it takes to fix the current culture of business.
“Reduction of consumer surplus,” in econ terms.
So here’s the plan: every company is either a startup or a chaebol. If you’re a startup you get to move fast and break things, invent new products, innovate your processes, remove your processes, create new products, deprecate old ones, lower prices, raise prices, eliminate the entire concept of prices, etc. Your shareholders will probably lose everything and your company will go bankrupt, but there’s a small chance that you all become billionaires.
If you’re a chaebol then you are part of a government-enforced oligopoly and everything you do involves infinite bureaucracy and is guaranteed to be basically the same forever. You cannot change your prices without an act of Congress, you cannot mothball old products, you cannot substantially change the products you already offer without signoff from 57 government regulators. You will not maximize shareholder value. You will not delight your customers. You will also not annoy them by enshittifying a product that they’re used to. You will provide modest, mostly-predictable returns to your customers and a well-understood palette of the same products at the same quality for ever and ever.
Occasionally a startup will become very successful. At some well-defined revenue threshold (somewhere around $10B), you are legally required to stop being a startup and become a chaebol instead, with all of the implications listed above. Everyone understands this, and when you cross the threshold you will have an official ceremony with the head of the SEC, shake hands with your new regulatory best buddies, and be invited into the secret group chat with all of the other chaebol oligarchs. Everyone in the business will understand that the exciting times are over and everything from here on out is following procedures and obeying regulations, and the customers will understand that whatever the product is now is what it will be for the rest of time.
I agree to your terms.







