Everything can be bought and sold. Every aspect of our world has been commodified. Life has become an economic exchange — from our land, to our thoughts, to our sicknesses, our education, and our physical bodies, all the way to our fundamental human experiences such as death, birth, and love. We are not just living in a market; we are the market. And it is only getting worse.
The reality is, everything has a price. If you cannot cough up the money, you don’t only get left behind, you get punished, you get sick. You are left fending for yourself, with no community to rely on, because everyone else is feeling the struggle with you.
We have all entered into this arrangement: you pay, or you die. So, we are left trying to navigate a world where billionaires can fly into space, indulging in lavish lifestyles, whilst at the bottom of their business buildings, people are sleeping rough, hoping each day that their situation will change. Some of you might remember, in 2017, where roughly 60 people experiencing homelessness in were forcibly removed from Martin Place, their encampment dismantled by “[d]ump trucks, police and council workers” under the shadow of two of Australia’s most powerful financial institutions, the former Westpac headquarters and the Reserve Bank of Australia.
It has become clear to me that the system is not broken — rather, it is working exactly as it is intended to work.
What makes it worse is that we know. We witness the inequality and exploitation every day. We provide our labour, we receive “compensation”, and then we fall into debt again — usually to the same corporations that pay us. We fall into this cycle to afford the basics of survival: housing, food, education. Yet, instead of resisting, many have come to believe that this system isn’t just inevitable, but beneficial. The unacceptable has somehow become accepted. We haven’t only been oppressed, our consent has been manufactured.
But this raises a critical question: who exactly is doing the manufacturing?
Enter Sheldon Wolin, a prominent contemporary political philosopher. In Democracy Incorporated (2008), he describes a system he calls ‘inverted totalitarianism’ — a new kind of rule that doesn’t rely on visible oppression, but rather on quiet control. Traditional totalitarianism demands obedience at gunpoint. Inverted totalitarianism just needs you to keep shopping, keep scrolling, and keep accepting.
Democracy remains in appearance. You still get to technically choose, but only between what’s already been pre-approved. Elections happen, but power isn’t in the hands of the public; it’s in corporate boardrooms, lobbying groups, and unelected agencies. We’re ruled not by tyrants, but by systems. Not by force, but by design.
And that design? It’s built on a single logic that aims to extract as much value from you as possible. If you can pay, you’re in. If not, you’re out. Marginalised. Abandoned. Blamed. Left to die slowly in a system that pretends it’s fair.
We are always told that if we work hard, are creative enough, entrepreneurial enough, anyone can create a ‘successful’ life like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs. This promise is a mirage. For every one person who makes it, there are millions whose labour made their climb possible — yet they remain invisible, left with treacherous working conditions, underpayment, and exhaustion. This brutal reality can be clearly seen in the cobalt mines of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, where Congo workers describe their relationship at work to be “like slave and a master”, where the basic wage for a large day of work The Guardian reports to be “equivalent of £2.60 ($3.50) a day”. Workers face deadly risks everyday, with tunnels collapsing, workers being buried alive and staggering amounts of fatalities, all while companies like Apple, Google and Tesla, exploit child and cheap labour to fuel their vast profits, turning a blind eye to the human cost of their mineral supply chains.
This myth of meritocracy is dangerous, as it shifts the burden of systemic failure onto individuals. It is weaponised to justify inequality, to convince us that the rich are rich because they are smarter or more talented, or have worked harder.
If we are to truly challenge this narrative, we must understand the power of collective resistance. This is where unionism — and the broader idea of collective organisation — plays a pivotal role in standing up and fighting back.
Unions represent one of the last truly powerful mechanisms to push against unchecked corporate power. They challenge the fundamental logic of ‘pay or die’. In a world that demands competition, productivity, and individual success, unions stand for solidarity, collective power, and mutual aid. They remind us that we are not isolated units of labour to be bought and sold, but rather a collective force that can demand more than just mere survival; a force that can demand dignity, justice, and equity.
Obviously, wages and working conditions are vital, but it extends beyond that. Unionism highlights that collective action and organising are the antidotes to the individualistic logic of capitalism, which seeks to atomise us, divide us, and set us against one another.
In the face of inverted totalitarianism — where the lines between government and corporate interests blur — unions offer a way to reassert popular control. They are a reminder that power does not come from the top down, but instead it comes from the bottom up. When workers unite, they force those in power to listen. They demand that corporations prioritise the well-being of workers, the environment, and society over profit.
The road to meaningful change is not easy. Corporations and governments work relentlessly to suppress union power, to divide the working class, and to convince us that we’re all just one big free market away from success. They use fear, misinformation, and legislation to weaken unions and reduce their influence.
The importance of unionism and collective organisation has never been clearer. It is the only real way to challenge the corporate giants that benefit from our exploitation, and to push for a system that works for everyone.
If we want to confront the ‘pay or die’ mentality that is ingrained in the fabric of our society, we must organise — in our workplaces, in our communities, and in our political movements. We must resist the false narrative that we’re powerless. We must reject the idea that survival is a luxury reserved for the rich, and instead fight for a world where no one is left behind — where human dignity is more important than profit, and where solidarity becomes the foundation of our society.Find your union and join it today.
