The Rhetoric of Ownership

How much do you actually own? If you have an active mortgage that you are paying, you do not yet own your house, the bank owns it. If you are actively paying a car loan, then you don’t own your car (it isn’t yours, you commit inaccuracy when you say “mine”) it belongs to the finance company or bank that holds your loan. If, like me, you have student loan debt, then you technically don’t yet own your education even though you may be reaping the rewards already. 

Bottom line, we don’t OWN anything until it is paid off in full. Only then is it MINE. But that logical perception is not the idea that we embrace. In America, we say “my car,” “my house,” “I bought furniture,” “I own a dishwasher,” which is all indicative of possession, instead of the more accurate “the bank’s car,” “the mortgage company’s house,” “Raymour & Flanigan’s furniture,” “Sears’ dishwasher.” We all do it. We tell ourselves and each other in ownership terms what we (technically don’t yet) possess. 

In fact, this concept of ownership is built into our national rhetoric – if you do not “own” a home, you are somehow deficient as a citizen, as though taking on hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt somehow makes you a more responsible adult. Very few people actually understand what “equity” means and how it is a self-perpetuating system designed to keep us in hawk, buying and spending more and more until we are so beholden to the system that our grandchildren may need to sell off our “hard-won” possessions in order to pay off all that we will ultimately owe (not own).

The allure of “ownership”

 When we own property, we are considered trustworthy, responsible, stake holding citizens capable of voting for the right politicians and making the right decisions to move the country forward. Therefore, the millions of people who do not have the cash position (or desire) to participate in this illusion are left out of the equation as untrustworthy, irresponsible, non-stakeholders whose perspectives are wrong for the future of our nation.

This single word damages and skews our view of reality, resulting in quick dismissal of views, opinions, and
perspectives of renters. In the summer 2008 issue of the Journal of Social History, a study of early 20^th century home ownership campaigns in Atlanta appeared by scholar LeeAnn Lands: “Be a patriot, buy a home: Re-imagining home owners and home ownership in early 20^th century Atlanta.” Specifically, the article examines “how Atlanta's land dealers were encouraged towards the national home-ownership trajectory, focusing on how the terms ‘home owner’ and ‘home ownership’ were charged with particular meanings that were, in the 1930s and 1940s, solidified in public policies and patriotic rhetoric.” 

With the government’s tacit approval, we easily dismiss renters’ perspectives on socioeconomic and political issues, voting for community standard-bearers who own a home (or three) and demonstrate the illusion of happy family and fulfilling career. When is the last time you voted for someone who rents in your community? Our political system, our national mythology, and our very sense of patriotism are inextricably shackled to the concept of ownership instead of communality, sacrifice, love, and tolerance. American history is replete with ravages made permissible by this powerful word; the sins committed in the name of ownership are many, including land theft, broken treaties, and global delusions of grandeur.  Our market economy is built on the concept of ownership, which in this country is basically a lie because we misuse the term so vociferously.

Clouded visions

Our rhetorical inaccuracies may help us sleep better at night, but cloud our reality and blind us to the truth. “Our nation” is built, physically, on a lie. This land upon which we all currently sit and work once “belonged” to hundreds of indigenous tribes whose members numbered in the millions. As Europeans invaded the space, spied the fertility of the land and the potential of its resources, hundreds of rhetorical moves were made, like a deadly game of chess where the outcome was pre-determined. We, of any European descent, still benefit from the results of that calculated rhetorical game that changed reality for millions of tribal peoples. It was brilliant, really, and effective enough that we still speak in terms of owning this land today. Remember learning this Woodie Guthrie 1940 folk song in grade school?

        This land is your land,

        This land is my land,

        From California

        To the New York island...

        ...This land was made for you and me.

“This land was made for you and me” is historically inaccurate and factually wrong, but rhetorically powerful as a reinforcement of Euramerican depredations of Native territories as our ancestors sought to enact the idea of ownership on the grandest and most destructive scale possible. It is this reality that we celebrate with songs like Guthrie’s. As if we earned it. As if we should be proud of possessing it. But pride in ownership of anything where the price paid was much too high is suspect and reflects poorly on the character and morality of those who speak in such terms. Take the housing crisis.

How many people who couldn’t actually afford to pay a mortgage got a mortgage? And of those people, who put zero down and walked into a house three times the size of necessity and affordability, who are now in foreclosure, fought the bank by saying, “You have it wrong, we CAN afford this mortgage payment”? But the lure of “ownership” attracted them as surely as it compelled the mortgage company or bank to look the other way or ignore facts as those people filled out mortgage applications. 

“Ownership” validates one’s existence in America. If you don’t “own,” you haven’t succeeded. Just listen to one of our former presidents: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVdTzPEYvH4

“If you own something, you have a vital stake in the future of America.” Wow. Thanks for making my case, W. In other words, if you don’t own anything, you don’t have a vital stake in the future of this nation and are, therefore, less worthy and less valuable as a citizen. 

In 1998, Dr. Jack Goodman wrote the following for the National Multi Housing Council: “The pro-ownership rhetoric from government officials and business interests typically goes way beyond the facts. The benefits of homeownership often are overstated, and important drawbacks usually are ignored.” Specifically, these drawbacks include overrated investment value, imaginary financial benefits (such as tax breaks), and loss of “labor market mobility” when a better job in a different region comes along. Imagine if those people who are now losing their homes had heeded this advice.

The rhetoric of ownership only serves to divide us and set the stage for unrealistic ambitions and unhealthy desires that will ultimately go unfulfilled, which can lead to stress, frustration, and isolation when things don’t work out. Even worse is the stigma attached to those who don’t “own.” Who don’t even try to “own,” or (worse) have no desire to “own.” Instead of promoting ownership, our political, corporate, and financial leaders should be promoting community development, affordable and safe housing for renters, and the more abstract concept that our society collectively owns, but has turned its back on: the pursuit of happiness (not possessions).