This essay examines trickle‑down not as an economic theory but as an axiom. It asks when a contested hypothesis ceases to require demonstration and begins to operate as a standing justification. At that point, it no longer explains outcomes. It authorizes them.
Trickle‑down is commonly presented as a mechanism through which accumulation generates general benefit. Concentration is framed as provisional, inequality as temporary, and reward as ultimately shared.
These claims shift attention away from verification and toward expectation. Promise substitutes for proof. What is described as distribution depends on prior withholding. Benefit is said to flow only after it has been secured elsewhere.
A mechanism that requires inequality in order to justify equality contradicts itself. The logic depends on deferral. Those positioned to wait are not those positioned to decide. The contradiction becomes ethical when patience is assigned unevenly. Those asked to trust the longest are those least able to absorb delay. Those who benefit earliest are not exposed to failure in the same measure. Risk is not shared. Time is not reciprocal.
Trickle‑down does not compel through force. It governs through assurance. It asks that inequality be endured in the present in exchange for a benefit that cannot be demanded.
What trickle‑down is, then, is a narrative that stabilizes concentration by postponing accountability. What it is not is a distributive mechanism or a mutual ethic.
When promise replaces demonstration, trickle‑down ceases to be examined and begins to function as an axiom.
This essay treats inflation not as a technical variable but as an axiom. It asks when inflation ceases to appear as a policy outcome and begins to function as a background assumption. At that point, it no longer argues its case. It is endured.
Inflation is commonly described as neutral. It is said to affect all equally, to arise impersonally, and to correct excesses over time. These descriptions grant it the status of a natural condition rather than a decision mediated by institutions. In doing so, they suspend ethical inquiry.
What presents itself as general is, in practice, asymmetrical. Inflation redistributes value across time. Those who can defer consumption, hold assets, or hedge exposure are not affected in the same manner as those whose lives are indexed to wages, rent, or fixed obligations. A condition that produces predictable inequality while presenting itself as neutral contradicts its own description.
The contradiction deepens when inflation is framed as inevitable. Inevitability removes agency from decision while preserving its effects. Responsibility dissolves into explanation. Adjustment is demanded without consent, and patience is prescribed as virtue. The ethical tension does not lie in sacrifice itself, but in the absence of reciprocity. Those who decide are not exposed in the same temporal frame as those who absorb the cost.
Inflation operates quietly. It does not compel through force but through normalization. It is accepted because it is explained, and it persists because it is treated as unavoidable. What inflation is, then, is a distributive mechanism embedded in time. What it is not is neutral, impersonal, or shared equally.
The moment this distinction is obscured, inflation ceases to be examined and begins to rule as an axiom.
Ricardo Morín Still Six: The Arithmetic of Progress Oil On Linen 14 by 18 by 3/4 inches 2010
Ricardo F. Morín
November 2025
Oakland Park, Florida
Billy Bussell Thompson, Editor
Abstract
This essay examines the assumption that technological and scientific advances have produced a universal improvement in human life. While contemporary discourse often equates innovation with progress, the distribution of benefits remains deeply asymmetrical. Technological growth increases capacity but does not correct the structural inequities embedded in modern economic systems. What appears as collective advancement frequently reflects the consolidation of advantage among those already positioned to receive it. By distinguishing capability from justice, and aggregate trends from lived conditions, the essay argues that the notion of historical progress is less a measure of shared dignity than a narrative that obscures persistent hierarchies.
1
The modern argument for progress (understood as improvement) rests on a familiar premise: technological and scientific advances have made life better today than at any other point in human history. Thinkers such as Harvard’s Steven Pinker defend this view with empirical confidence—he points to increased life expectancy, reduced mortality, improved medical interventions, and the steady rise of global literacy. In this framing, innovation and macroeconomic expansion constitute not only evidence of historical progress but the very engines that produce it.
2
Yet the structure of this reasoning is fragile. It equates technical capacity with civic advancement and treats expanded tools as synonymous with expanded dignity. It assumes that the benefits of innovation distribute themselves naturally and uniformly across societies. It suggests that progress is a shared inheritance rather than a selective outcome. These assumptions flatten the complexities of economic life into a narrative that conceals the asymmetries on which contemporary systems depend.
3
The historical record offers a different picture. Technological growth has consistently increased the efficiency of extraction, the speed of accumulation, and the reach of centralized power. Growth has amplified productivity without altering the basic hierarchy of distribution. Knowledge expands, but the architecture of inequity persists. What appears as collective advancement is often a redistribution of advantage toward those already positioned to capture its rewards. This is not a failure of technology; it is the continuity of a primitive logic embedded within modern economic structures.
4
The Enlightenment promise—that reason and innovation would lift the condition of all—has, in practice, produced a dual economy. One part benefits from scientific capacity, medical improvement, and informational access. The other part experiences precarity, dispossession, and structural vulnerability despite living under the same technological horizon. Progress, in this sense, is not a universal fact but a statistical abstraction. It describes averages, not lived realities. It treats the mean as the measure of the moral.
5
Some defend the concentration of authority on the grounds that a virtuous ruler could achieve what plural institutions cannot. This argument, however substitutes character for structure. If justice depends on the accident of benevolence, it ceases to be a principle and becomes a contingency.
6
Macroeconomic narratives reinforce this illusion. Rising GDP is interpreted as evidence of collective ascent, even as wealth concentrates in increasingly narrow fractions of the population. Globalized production expands, but the gains consolidate among those with access to capital, infrastructure, and insulating privilege. The appearance of aggregate improvement obscures the internal asymmetry: growth for some, stagnation or decline for many. The arithmetic of progress becomes a rhetoric of reassurance rather than a diagnosis of social reality.
7
To question this framing is not to deny the achievements of science or the value of technological discovery. It is to refuse the conflation of capability with justice. It is to observe that our tools have advanced while our institutions have remained elementary—often primitive—in their allocation of power and opportunity. Inequity is no less entrenched today than in earlier eras; it has simply been rationalized under the banner of innovation.
8
If echoes of Thomas Paine emerge in this argument, they are not intentional. They arise from a shared intuition: that systems calling themselves enlightened can reproduce the conditions they claim to transcend. Paine confronted monarchy; we confront the monarchy of capital, which presents itself as progressive while it operates through concentration, asymmetry, and manufactured narratives of improvement.
9
The challenge is not to reject technological advancement but to assess its civic consequences without accepting its mythology. Progress exists, but its distribution is neither natural nor inevitable. Until the structures that allocate benefit are reexamined rather than presumed, the claim of historical improvement functions less as an account of justice than as a story societies tell themselves to avoid reckoning with its absence.