New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani recently caused something of an uproar when he contrasted the “the frigidity of rugged individualism” with the “warmth of collectivism.” This framing echoes the familiar criticism that capitalism forces people to go it alone as “atomistic individuals.” The thought goes like this: markets do real damage to the social fabric and our relationships because they organize our economic lives around competition and self-interest. Organizing our lives around competition encourages people to see each other as rivals rather than partners. In brief, capitalism pits us against each other, while socialism brings us together. Setting aside the fact that collectivist regimes haven’t exactly been warm to those living under them, this view gets capitalism backward.
Start with a simple observation about your own economic life under capitalism. Think about this week: how many cooperative interactions have you had, and how many competitive ones?
You probably didn’t compete with anyone when you bought coffee at Starbucks this morning. You didn’t enter a zero-sum struggle when you paid your phone bill, purchased groceries and gas, or caught a movie. Instead, you took part in a series of mutually beneficial, voluntary transactions. You gave someone money and they gave you something you wanted more than the money. Everyone walked away better off. In the words of Adam Smith, “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.”
Competition, by contrast, rarely pops up in your day-to-day economic life. A business competes with other businesses for customers and you’ve probably competed with others for a job at some point. But you cooperate far more often than you compete. And notice what market competitions really are—they’re competitions to see who’s best at serving others. You might say that they’re competitions to discover the best ways to cooperate and who the best cooperators are (more on this below).
Unsurprisingly, Smith understood the cooperative nature of markets well. He writes that a wool coat
“is the produce of the joint labour of a great multitude of workmen. The shepherd, the sorter of the wool, the wool-comber or carder, the dyer, the scribbler, the spinner, the weaver, the fuller, the dresser, with many others, must all join their different arts in order to complete even this homely production. How many merchants and carriers, besides, must have been employed in transporting the materials from some of those workmen to others who often live in a very distant part of the country! How much commerce and navigation in particular, how many ship-builders, sailors, sail-makers, rope-makers, must have been employed in order to bring together the different drugs made use of by the dyer, which often come from the remotest corners of the world!”
Smith goes on, but I’ve got a word limit here—the point is that markets don’t atomize us. On the contrary, they lead strangers all over the world to cooperate.
Think back to the last time you bought a coffee. Starbucks has to coordinate with bean farmers, shipping companies, truck drivers, warehouse workers, roasters, equipment manufacturers, electricians, plumbers, accountants, and baristas. None of these people know you, and yet they manage, every day, to cooperate in ways that reliably get caffeine in your hand at 7:43 a.m. And this isn’t accidental—the prices provided by markets give people the information they need to figure out what others want, and they provide the incentive to give it to them.
There’s no denying that markets involve competition. You can go to the business section of a bookstore and find titles like Business Warfare and The Warfare of Business. But businesses are competing with each other to see who can best serve consumers. Netflix beat Blockbuster by figuring out a better way to give viewers what they wanted: convenience, selection, no late fees, and eventually streaming. In brief, Netflix won because consumers preferred cooperating with Netflix over Blockbuster.
A similar point applies to competition in the job market. Maybe you don’t merely want to buy coffee from Starbucks, you want to work there, too. But this means you’ll have to compete with other applicants who also want the job. Here again, let’s look at what it takes for an applicant to win this competition. They need to demonstrate that they’ll do the best job of making customers better off—say, by being more punctual, more efficient at making mochas, or more likely to serve drinks with a smile. Market competition is competition to see who can cooperate most effectively with others.
In any case, democratic socialists can’t be opposed to all competition. After all, democracy requires competition, and democratic socialists want democracy in the workplace as well as in politics. If competing for dollars is frigid, it’s hard to see why competing for votes would be any warmer. Market competition enables millions of people with different values, plans, and priorities to work together without agreeing on much of anything by helping them to coordinate many different choices. You and your barista don’t need to agree on the principles of justice to cooperate and make each other better off. Far from being atomizing or frigid, the free market is a system of interdependence that brings strangers together to cooperate for their mutual benefit.