The Capitalism of Absence

By Eugenio Bucci

(Published on the website) the earth is round)

On January 3, 2022, Apple became the first company in history to reach a valuation of US$3 trillion. This figure is roughly equivalent to twice Brazil's GDP. That's a lot of money – and it's money that keeps growing. In a span of 16 months, Apple's value increased by 50%, rising from US$2 trillion to US$3 trillion. This surge leaves no doubt that the heart of capitalism lies in the so-called big tech companies, the high-tech giants with an unparalleled capacity for innovation. 

In July of last year, the five largest Big Tech companies (Apple, Google, Amazon, Microsoft, and Facebook, which was recently renamed Meta) together reached a market capitalization of US$9,3 trillion. Now, they are worth even more. 

During the pandemic, with the sanitary isolation measures, these five companies soared. They were the companies best prepared to profit from what began to be called "remote work," as well as from e-commerce, e-government, and home office. Their tools became indispensable. 

In April 2020, there were 4,5 billion inhabitants on the planet, in 110 countries, living (or trying to survive) under lockdown. We were entering an era of virtual reality that we didn't know: schools, even the most reluctant ones, had to surrender to distance learning; law offices in every corner adopted working from home; public services began to be offered online, and civil society movements channeled themselves into digital platforms – and electronic petitions abounded. 

A strange period began there, with workers working without showing up at their workplace, citizens exercising their rights without being there, masses via YouTube, and dating via WhatsApp. The economy adapted very well, thank you. No catastrophe befell the so-called "markets." What did come, however, was more accumulation, more concentration, and more growth in the value and power of big tech companies, which established themselves as stars in the capitalism of absence. 

We are living through a most intriguing social mutation. In the Industrial Revolution of the XNUMXth century, people spoke of “labor power”. It was this “strength” that the working class sold on the assembly lines. The “work force” was a physical energy fueled by human blood. With it, the proletarians moved gears, screwed screws, pushed carcasses, packages and carts full of coal. Today, the old “work force” seems to be on the sidelines. Capital no longer cares about it, or at least it doesn't care that much. Robotic machines do the work, harvest the cane, weld parts to the fuselage of cars, operate the telemarketing services of life and death. 

Now, capital's interest is focused on other attributes of people. It no longer requires physical strength, but rather our gaze, imagination, attention, and desire. These attributes are no longer so much related to the body, the muscles, and the skeleton that sustains us, but to the psychic machine. The capitalism of absence – with big tech at the forefront – has developed formulas to exploit our most hidden fantasies. This is why, with the masses confined, the economy did not stop. 

The mode of production in which we are embedded manages to extract value – at a distance – from bodies in a semi-vegetative state, prostrate behind an electronic screen. The only thing that is summoned into activity, in sleeping bodies, is the gaze and the tips of the fingers. Capitalism has sanitized itself. Never has the physical absence of the exploited been such a lucrative solution.

But the great advantage of big tech companies isn't in working from home, which, incidentally, has become commonplace (or, in the Brazilian case, has become a burden). Today, everyone says they work remotely, including those who don't. The biggest differentiator of large conglomerates, like Apple and its counterparts, all global monopolists in their respective fields (or areas of operation), was the transformation of consumption into work. In the business model of these tech giants, consuming is working. 

The so-called “user”, while thinking about enjoying free features, while imagining having fun, is working for free. It is the “user” who “posts” the “contents”, it is the “user” who, unknowingly, provides all his personal data for free (which will later be sold at a price in gold to advertisers), it is the “user ” which, with its look, also gratuitous, sews together the meanings and assimilates the contents of brands and goods. The poor “user” is at the same time the labor and the raw material that come out for free. Then, at the end of the line, it is he, the “user”, who will be marketed. That's what the best deal in all of human history boils down to. 

If you want, you can try to be optimistic. You can talk about the healing prodigies of telemedicine and the comfort of playing in the Mega-Sena without leaving home. Nothing against. Just take into account that its absence has been filling large gaps, that is, it has been cramming virtual money into many digital asses.

(Originally published in the newspaper) The State of São Paulo.)