Why we need a solidarity economy now

By Rick Wilson

As people across the United States face massive cuts to Medicaid, SNAP and other vital programs, many are asking: What happens when the systems we rely on fail us? And what happens when our communities are torn apart by toxic inequality, political fragmentation and declining social trust? 

The solution may lie in something that humans have been doing throughout our existence: taking care of each other, often without realizing it. Today that’s what some of us call the “solidarity economy.” 

I first heard the term in late 2008, and I wasn’t impressed. I believe the term I used might have been something like “boutique-y.”  

Those were different times. After the George W. Bush era ended, the idea of painstakingly building positive local economic alternatives to exploitative systems seemed far less promising than the direct route of pushing for massive changes in public policies. 

It seemed to me then that windows to achieve major changes were about to open. My heart was set on reforming labor laws to make union organizing easier, approaching universal health care, domestic spending to counter the Great Recession and climate action.  

Some of those opportunities were squandered, but it wasn’t all a waste. There were gains in health care, stimulus spending and child nutrition. And a lot of things didn’t get much worse for a while. But those same windows to affect positive policy change tend to be shut more often than open.  

Beyond the rock 

As we’re seeing today, the gains of the past can be undone. I am often reminded of Sisyphus and his rock. Over time, I’ve come to realize that while policy struggles and resistance are more necessary than ever, repeatedly rolling the rock up the hill only to see it roll down aren’t the only options. Positive alternatives to the dominant system that help people meet basic needs and relate to each other in new ways started making a lot more sense. 

The New Economy Coalition defines the solidarity economy as “a global movement to build a just and sustainable economy where we prioritize people and the planet over endless profit and growth.”  

According to the U.S. Solidarity Economy Network, which emerged out of the 2007 U.S. Social Forum, the principles of this new economy include: solidarity, cooperation and mutualism, equity in all dimensions, participatory democracy, sustainability and pluralism. 

Examples include Indigenous approaches to survival and sustainability, cooperatives, community land trusts, credit unions, peer lending, mutual aid, community-led economic development, bartering, community-supported agriculture and fair-trade products. They can also be found in the informal ways in which family, friends and neighbors come together all the time to help each other. 

A concrete informal example: I live on a dead-end one-lane country road in rural West Virginia. When a tree falls across it, the first person who is able shows up with the chainsaw to clear the road. If someone has a wood stove, they catch a break. When bad weather hits — an increasingly frequent event — people check on each other. When a garden is abundant or chickens lay a lot of eggs or a hunter has good luck, these things are shared. We even look out for each other’s dogs. This support cuts across potential lines of disagreement on contentious issues, of which we may have a surplus. 

It’s the kind of thing that goes on just about everywhere, just about all the time, but we often don’t recognize or articulate it. But it’s more important than ever these days. 

Why now? 

First, we are facing a historical shredding of the social safety net and an unprecedented transfer of wealth from the working class and poor to the ultra rich. While local economic alternatives are no substitute for SNAP, free school meals or Medicaid, they can help people meet basic needs at least to some degree — and possibly provide opportunities to resist and organize for a better future. 

Second, these alternatives can help rebuild social connections. It’s been 25 years since Harvard sociologist Robert Putnam published “Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community,” but I still find many of the ideas expressed there to be relevant. 

Putnam’s main thesis was that social capital — all the formal and informal ways in which people interact — has declined in recent decades, and that’s a problem. His research suggested that communities and individuals with more dense networks of social capital are healthier and more able to solve social and personal problems.  

He identified two main kinds of social capital: bonding and bridging. Bonding social capital occurs within like-minded groups, while bridging can link diverse groups together. Both have their place, but bridging can bring in new people, new ideas and wider possibilities. 

In “Bowling Alone,” Putnam placed a lot of blame for the decline of social capital on suburbanization, long commutes and mass media. Throw in more recent trends such as extreme inequality, political hostilities, inflamed rhetoric, social media echo chambers, smartphone absorption and the lingering effects of COVID-imposed isolation and the results are toxic. Family, former friends and allies often wind up polarized.  

Aside from the traditional division between left and right, weird new political tendencies have emerged, blending themes from both with a strong ingredient of conspiratorial thinking. Naomi Klein referred to this phenomenon as “diagonalism” in her recent book “Doppelganger.” 

To paraphrase William Butler Yeats’ prescient poem “The Second Coming,” the center does not hold. 

Reweaving 

For these reasons, economic impacts aside, I’ve come to believe that solidarity economy efforts, great and small, can help reweave the social fabric. 

Farmers markets, which have nearly tripled in my home state since 2019, are a perfect example of how a once marginal economic alternative has gone mainstream, with benefits beyond fresh food and cash in farmers’ pockets.

“One sociologist calculated that people have 10 times as many conversations at the farmers’ market than they do in the supermarket,” Michael Pollan wrote in an essay for the New York Review of Books. “Socially as well as sensually, the farmers’ market offers a remarkably rich and appealing environment. Someone buying food here may be acting not just as a consumer but also as a neighbor, a citizen, a parent, a cook. In many cities and towns, farmers’ markets have taken on (and not for the first time) the function of a lively new public square.” 

Imagine the possible positive effects if there was a similar growth for other solidarity economy models. Every such effort could be a training ground for new ways of cooperating and communicating while also building a more just and sustainable future. 

Baby steps 

Here are some ideas about how we can build the solidarity economy: 

De-commodify what we can. Not everything has to be subject to money — but even if it is, profit maximization doesn’t have to be the only goal. Think flea markets, yard sales and livestock swaps. Experiment with formal or informal mutual aid practices. These can include bartering, sharing time, resources and skills, and receiving help yourself. Rediscover the ancient gift economy in ways as simple as little free libraries or “blessing boxes” with free food. 

Consider self-provisioning. Are there things we can do, make, share or grow for ourselves and others? Possibilities include arts and crafts, music, gardening, preserving food, making beverages, raising chickens, do-it-yourself projects and knitting. 

Think about where the money goes. Consider moving it from big predatory banks to credit unions or locally-owned financial institutions. When possible, spend yours on locally and sustainably produced goods and services and fair-trade items, preferably made and distributed by union labor. Buy from worker-friendly businesses. When possible, buy food from local small farmers. 

Support cooperative or alternative enterprises — or consider starting one. Worker, consumer and housing co-ops and community land trusts can be a way to meet basic needs and support economic democracy. 

Research more possibilities. There are a huge number of resources and organizations that can help you learn more and find a niche to support this growing movement. Check out the websites of the U.S. Solidarity Economy Network and RIPESS, an intercontinental social solidarity economy network. 

Show up. One thing that Americans are pretty good at across the political spectrum is showing up for neighbors and strangers when misfortunes and disasters happen. Unfortunately, we’re going to see a lot more opportunities to do that as extreme weather events escalate. As much as we’d prefer to prevent such events, they can shock us into new ways of relating and often bring out our best. In “A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster,” Rebecca Solnit wrote, “It’s tempting to ask why if you fed your neighbors during the time of the earthquake and fire, you didn’t do so before or after.” 

Break out of the bubble. Mix, mingle, talk and most importantly listen respectfully with people outside our usual circles or comfort zones. 

For this kind of economy to grow, however, there need to be easy on-ramps for people with diverse backgrounds and opinions to engage in these alternatives. I’m convinced that the more people experience the humanizing benefits of direct connections and mutual support, the more bridges can be built in the future.  

We can learn by doing. As the saying goes, we can act our way into different ways of thinking more easily than we can think our way into new ways of acting.