It seems immediately, intuitively right that S. Truett Cathy should get to control Chick-Fil-A in the same way that I get to control my car: there are a lot of regulations around safety to make sure I don’t hurt people and play nicely with others, but it’s fundamentally mine and within those limits I can do whatever I want with it.
I mean, this is the central intuitive disjunct between people who are more sympathetic to socialism and people who are more sympathetic to capitalism; I can’t make my position seem more intuitively appealing to you without probably more time and energy than we’re both willing to put into drilling down on the central emotional/aesthetic/moral foundations of our beliefs, though I will say I definitely used to think as you did.
There are two perspectives I could share, I guess, to try to make the opposing intuition easier to understand. One is approximately more abstractly philosophical, the other is purely consequential.
The moral/philosophical approach is that physical, personal possessions aren’t like property in the broad sense. That is, much in the same way that intuitions about household budgets map badly to the U.S. federal budget, intuitions about the use and disposition of your car, your only house, your favorite piece of jewelry, etc., don’t map coherently onto abstract corporate entities. For on, how you dispose of the former has a lot less of an effect on the personal livelihoods of thousands of people; in the latter case, they depend on this thing that we call “private property” for their livelihoods, and the manner in which you derive wealth from that property depends on their showing up every day to do their jobs. Functionally, you are dependent for your wealth on the labor of others (if you’re S. Truett Cathy), but legally the relationship runs the other way–they have no control over the operation of the company they work for. That’s unusual, and not a kind of relationship we countenance elsewhere in our society much anymore, hence my point about how we have democratic political institutions but profoundly undemocratic workplaces.
“Means of production” is the relevant theoretical term here, and I think it’s a useful one. In the case of an individually owned business entity, one person has a property called ownership, enforced by a powerful state apparatus of violence, over a bunch of physical stuff, that also gives them the right to anything produced from that stuff, even though they personally cannot possibly generate enough labor to actually use that stuff. And it might be one thing if we could point to a historical process of basically fair accumulation of that stuff–if, say, five hundred years ago, everybody’s wealth had been approximately equal, and a series of basically fair financial transactions that everybody had walked away from happy (at the time) had led to the current arrangement.
But we know that’s not the case. We know that the present arrangement of who owns what stuff is downstream of a pretty violent, exploitative, and deeply unfair set of wars, seizures, genocides, colonial adventures, and other historical episodes of slaughter, and while as a society we have endeavored to correct some of these injustices after the fact (to the extent they can ever be corrected; you can’t undo the trans-Atlantic slave trade), any moral defense of strong, nearly-unlimited property rights has to reckon with the fact that the way we got the present arrangement is pretty fucked up, and trying to mark a bound in history (as some do) and say, “OK, but past this line everything is now basically fair” feels like a pretty unprincipled argument.
And sure, not every fortune is that of Charles III–you can’t trace them all to specific instances of historical feudal conquest, for instance. But that’s also why I don’t propose guillotining Jeff Bezos in the public square. I mean, besides being opposed to the death penalty in general, I don’t think Jeff Bezos is personally guilty of all the historic crimes of American imperialism. But I do think that the ideological framework which would hold that Jeff Bezos’s personal accumulation of wealth is a natural and just outcome of a liberal political economy sure looks like an ex-post-facto justification for the present arrangement, rather than what you would get if (say) you were theorizing what a maximally liberal system might look like from the ground up.
So I think the analogy to the car is bad, and let me offer a different analogy: the burning of country houses in Ireland. So, if you don’t know, in 1916 a failed rebellion, the Easter Rising, happens in Ireland; it gets crushed by the British, but in the aftermath the movement for Irish independence grows even stronger. In 1919 the War of Independence breaks out, this one much more successful, leading into the Irish Civil War, and the establishment of the Irish Free State. Although nationalistic in character (and socially conservative in governance), the Irish independence movement was reacting to a long list of historically real injustices, including religious oppression, forcible expropriation of land from the rural population, and economic injustices that caused, among other things, the Great Famine. During the War of Independence and the Civil War, Irish revolutionaries had the habit of going to the big country estates owned by the Protestant Ascendancy, ordering the inhabitants to clear out, and burning them to the ground.
This happened about three hundred times. To the owners of these houses, this was an atrocity: their family home, their primary residence, was being destroyed. There was certainly no legal process. If you did this to a random working-class Catholic family in Dublin, everyone would agree this was a monstrous act. But this was different, at least to some Irish revolutionaries. Why? Well, because the historical context was different–these estates were the result of centuries of policies of explicit oppression by the Protestant aristocracy, dispossession of the Catholic rural population, and defense of the subsequent inequality by state violence. The big house wasn’t just a personal family home (though it was that); it could not have existed without a pretty brutal legal regime that supported the Protestant Ascendancy, a legal regime which the whole Irish independence movement was directed at overthrowing.
This is not a defense of these house-burnings; I’m not here to litigate the morality or the effectiveness of the IRA during the period in question. What I want to point out, though, is that no matter how long the tenant farmers on these estates worked this land, or how punitive the rents extracted from them were, they never accrued any property rights or interest in the estates whose wealth was dependent on their labor. And they certainly didn’t occupy this particular economic niche because they had entered freely into a particular employment arrangement–their options were tenant farming, or starvation.
This is not the system that Chick-Fil-A employees labor under, but it’s not (so the intuition runs) so different that some degree of analogy doesn’t carry over. Large accumulations of wealth tend to require exploitation to some degree; workers have an interest in how the firms from which they derive their livelihood are run, and so should have some say in how they operate; even more so than the large farming estate which functions also as a primary residence, ownership of a firm (or a mine, or an IP) is not really analogous to other kinds of personal property.
The perspective I want to share is more consequential in nature, like I said, and it’s this: basically, the observation that wealth inequality is corrosive to liberalism, because it leads to political inequality. Property rights in the capitalist formulation are going to tend to lead to wealth inequality, just because they are going to make the accumulation of staggering individual fortunes much easier; to the extent you use redistribution to correct for this, you are moving away from a purely lasseiz-faire conception of capitalism, which is fine, but why try to patch this feature if it essentially breaks the thing you care most about, the liberal project? Why not try to move to a system which preserves other things we like (like a market economy), that also encourages a more equal distribution of wealth?
I’m not proposing vast expropriations, or public beheadings, or a revolution to do that–as far as I’m concerned, S. Truett Cathy and Jeff Bezos can die happy in giant Scrooge McDuck swimming pools of money if they really want–but this intuition that their ownership of their fortunes is really no different than your ownership of your car, or that the big country house in Ireland is no different from the working-class Catholic family’s house in Dublin, seems entirely wrong to me. Property law and the existence of property itself is a creature of state invention, and is coherent really only to the extent the state enforces it; it really seems like we can and should construct property law in a way which benefits society first (i.e., which promotes general and more-or-less even distribution of wealth), rather than treating the ability to accumulate large individual fortunes as in some way ontologically primary, and then trying to design the rest of the system around that. I mean, historically that’s what property law was for–when feudalism was popular. But we have rightly rejected feudalism as illiberal, so shouldn’t we reject its remnants within our conception of property rights?