Slave Labor for Dummies

Or, The Real Cost of My $15 Watch.

I know there are terrible things going on in the world. My general method of interacting with this truth has been to avoid it. I was sure that if I were to take my fingers out of my ears, the following would occur:

1. Hear about some terrible thing happening in the world

2. Feel horrible

3. Do nothing about it

4. Feel horrible

5. Forget about it

6. Repeat

It may sound cold, but I don’t think it’s unusual, or that it means I’m a bad person. In fact, I think I’m a pretty good person: I work hard to be a good friend, employee, sister, daughter, roommate. I’m kind. I’m grappling with questions of spirituality and religious observance and identity. I am constantly engaged in growing and fulfilling my potential.

But when it comes to politics, to human rights, to world affairs—I shut down. I feel so guilty from the get-go of my own ignorance and inaction that I don’t even begin.

I tried explaining this to a friend last week, but he wasn’t buying it. We were both in DC, participating in a fellowship for an international cohort of early Hillel professionals. He works personally and professionally to fight human trafficking and slavery. Issues I knew existed, but had chosen to ignore.

So he told me stories.

He told me stories of women who were forced to do sex work, in America and abroad. He told me stories of immigrant workers who were beaten if they tried to leave. He told me a story about a murder. The stories included a megacompany at the top of the chain claiming they knew nothing about this dark underbelly, claiming that it wasn’t their fault; there were contracters hired and subcontracters and so the blood was not on their hands.

I am purposefully being vague.  I know I could research this more—follow up with my friend about the details. Appear on my soapbox as a newly minted person of political convictions, armed with figures and footnotes. But I think it’s more important to be who I am: a voice of a somewhat self-conscious, somewhat lazy citizen of the world who was deeply affected by these stories.

And by this, an incredible two-minute animated film that he showed me:

(It begins: “97% of human beings care about human beings. Which is why it may come as a surprise to many people that slavery still exists.”)

Then my friend told me stories of affecting change. Easy—and hard—things that people have done or could do to put a stop to the terrible systems that rely on slavery.

We also talked about my watch.

The watch is a recent purchase from Kmart, of all places, that I was especially proud of: it’s a metallic bracelet with swirling carvings and a delicate clock face set in the middle. I bought it for $14.99. When he saw that it was made in China, he explained and I quickly understood that there is no way I can buy it for a mere fifteen dollars and have the chain be equitable all the way through. Somewhere the costs must be cut.

And so it’s cut from the people working on the other side of the planet to make me this pretty, affordable piece of jewelry that tells time. Of course, it’s unfair to assume that slavery was involved in the making of this particular watch—but as a concrete example, it’s illustrative.

A slavefree version of my watch would be more expensive… and the watch would be exactly the same. Same materials, same quality. Because you’re not ever paying for the object alone—you’re paying for the entire system. You’re paying for justice… or not. It reminds me of buying kosher meat: the meat isn’t better. It’s not tastier. And it’s much more expensive! But people don’t keep kosher because they think the food tastes better (at least, I hope not). Many people keep kosher because they believe in the values behind it, and for that value system to be upheld in practice, there are more steps along the way to their plates. The extra steps must be paid for; the price goes up.

It’s a little overwhelming to think that one conversation with a friend and one two-minute video will probably change how I shop for, well, everything going forward. But if I am careful to look at the ingredients in a tomato sauce or salad dressing to see if it’s kosher, then how can I not look at the ingredients of a new pair of jeans? And if the ingredients include slave labor—how could I possibly buy it?

I will keep wearing my watch. It gets a lot of compliments. I’ve started to reply: “Thanks! It might have only cost fifteen dollars because of slave labor!”

And that’s how the conversation begins.

Advertisement