Á la carte capitalism
France’s latest budget drama exposes once again the fantasy at the heart of modern bourgeois rule: the idea that capitalism can be managed à la carte, with its benefits retained and its consequences selectively discarded.
Western imperial duplicity and contradiction was perfectly exemplified recently when Donald Trump lauded the pirating of a Venezuelan oil tanker by US forces but paradoxically decried Iranian forces when Iran seized oil tankers in the Strait of Hormuz back in 2020. Trump publicly criticised Tehran’s behaviour as destabilising and harmful to global shipping, framing it as evidence of Iran being “nothing but trouble.”
Similarly, when France’s Prime Minister, Sébastien Lecornu, declared on December 9 that “making compromises is not a slogan, it means moving forward for the common good”, what he really meant was we, the ruling-class, are all in this together and for our good, we must save capitalism! Yes, what actually lies behind the soothing language of compromise and common good is a hard reality: the French state (along with its Western allies) is trapped in a deepening crisis of capitalism, and the ruling class insists that the working class must pay for it.
The myth of the common good
At face value, the ‘common good’ suggests social conditions that allow society as a whole to live, develop, and reproduce itself. Under capitalism, however, this concept is emptied of real content. What is presented as the common good is in fact the preservation of capitalist accumulation, financial credibility, and imperialist commitments.
France’s spiralling deficit — projected to exceed six percent of GDP — is not the product of excessive social generosity, but of years of tax cuts for the wealthy, pro-business ‘reforms’, surging military expenditure and stagnating growth. Yet the solution offered remains the same: austerity for workers, reassurance for markets.
Compromise in a hung parliament
Lecornu’s narrow victory in passing the social security budget by 13 votes is being hailed as proof of responsible governance. In reality, it demonstrates the paralysis of bourgeois democracy under conditions of crisis. A fragmented parliament, terrified of elections and haunted by mass anger, scrambles to keep the system functioning.
The suspension of Macron’s pension reform — raising the retirement age from 62 to 64 — was a tactical concession designed to buy time. It appeased the socialists and the populist right, while enraging sections of capital that demand immediate ‘structural reform’. The cost of this delay will, of course, be clawed back elsewhere: healthcare, education, public services. The bill is merely deferred, not withdrawn. This is capitalism’s preferred method: postpone confrontation, spread the pain, and return later with sharper knives.
Robbing the poor to calm the markets
Financial markets have responded with thinly veiled threats. Rising bond yields are wielded as a weapon, disciplining governments that hesitate to impose austerity fast enough. That France now borrows at higher rates than Italy or Greece is treated not as an indictment of capitalism, but as justification for further attacks on workers.
Republican leader Bruno Retailleau’s outrage that the government will “lead France into a brick wall” reveals the real concern of the bourgeoisie: not social collapse, but the reliability of France as a debtor state. The ‘future’ to be protected is that of capital, not labour.
Taxing the rich: reformist illusion or partial relief?
Against this backdrop, the proposal associated with economist Gabriel Zucman — a two percent annual tax on fortunes above €100 million — has assumed a central place in the budget debate. The proposal is neither marginal nor symbolic. It is estimated to apply to roughly 1,800 households and to raise between €15–20 billion annually, a sum large enough to significantly reduce the deficit or offset major austerity measures. The fact that just 1800 households giving up just a few percent of their wealth to generate income in the tens of billions can cause such outrage amongst the elite, tells us all we need to know. There is no compromise, no common good, just greed, injustice, exploitation and a moribund system that has long passed its sell-by date.
The rationale behind the Zucman tax is straightforward. Under existing tax regimes, the ultra-wealthy derive most of their income from asset appreciation rather than wages. Because unrealised capital gains are largely untaxed, billionaires frequently pay effective tax rates of around one percent — far lower than those borne by ordinary wage earners. The tax is designed to impose a minimum effective rate on total wealth, correcting what Zucman describes as structural regressivity built into modern tax systems. (By design of course!)
The proposal has enjoyed overwhelming public support, with polling consistently showing between 70 and 86 percent approval. This reflects a growing sense of tax injustice among the French population, particularly as official data show that the top 0.1 percent increased their incomes by 119 percent between 2003 and 2022 — more than two and a half times the national average. With such a logical, fair solution on the table, it will be challenging for the ruling class to secure a solution that is austerity-based. What parliament might push through in the short term will have inevitable longer-term ramifications as contradictions and consequences of working-class anger effervesce.
Support for the tax extends beyond France. It has been endorsed by numerous mainstream economists, discussed at G20 level, and presented as a potential model for coordinated international taxation of wealth. From a purely technical standpoint, it is deliberately simpler than previous wealth taxes such as the ISF (Impôt de solidarité sur la fortune), which was abolished in 2018 after being riddled with exemptions and avoidance mechanisms. (Of course – call it a built-in compromise for the ‘common good’.)
Yet despite its popularity and apparent fiscal logic, the Zucman tax has been repeatedly blocked. Here the real class nature of the state becomes visible. Opposition arguments fall into several categories, all of which ultimately and inevitably defend capitalist property relations.
First is the claim of capital flight. Business leaders and government allies argue that taxing large fortunes will drive billionaires abroad, undermining investment and innovation. Norway’s wealth tax is routinely cited as a warning, despite evidence that actual emigration rates among the wealthy remain extremely small. What is really being defended is not national prosperity, but the unrestricted mobility of capital as leverage against democratic pressure.
Second is the argument of economic harm. Figures such as Bernard Arnault denounce the tax as an ‘assault on the economy’, claiming it would weaken firms, deter entrepreneurs, and reduce competitiveness. This ignores the reality that France sits on vast accumulated private wealth and high savings levels. It also obscures the fact that austerity itself suppresses demand, deepens stagnation, and damages long-term productive capacity. Ultimately what it fails to reveal is the irrelevance of the parasitic ruling elite who neither make nor contribute to society in any productive or effective way.
Third is the constitutional objection. Critics assert that wealth taxes above certain thresholds violate principles of proportionality or property rights. Such claims reveal the ideological foundation of bourgeois legality: when democratic demands conflict with private ownership at the top, the law is mobilised to protect wealth, not society. Nothing new there!
Finally, there are technical objections concerning valuation of assets and liquidity. These are not insurmountable problems but convenient excuses. Proposals to allow payment in shares or to extend liability to recent tax exiles demonstrate that workable mechanisms exist — provided political will is present – of course it is not.
From a working-class perspective, the demand that the rich pay is entirely legitimate and economically rational. However, the parliamentary fate of the Zucman tax exposes the limits of reformism. Even modest redistribution within capitalism provokes unified resistance from the bourgeoisie and its political representatives.
The socialists’ fallback proposal — compelling taxpayers to lend to the state through non-tradable bonds — is a further attempt to manage crisis without confronting ownership. Like all such measures, it may temporarily shift burdens but cannot resolve the structural contradiction at the heart of capitalism: private appropriation of socially produced wealth.
A la carte capitalism exposed
What we are witnessing is à la carte capitalism in action. The ruling class demands free markets when it disciplines labour. State intervention when capital is threatened. Fiscal ‘responsibility’ but only for workers. Limitless spending on militarisation and rearmament.
While social spending is slashed, military budgets soar. Since 2017, France’s defence budget has risen from €32.7 billion to over €57 billion, with further increases planned. Austerity for hospitals and pensions, abundance for arms and imperial ambition.
This contradiction is not accidental. It reflects the priorities of a decaying imperialist power attempting to maintain global standing while its domestic social base erodes.
The growing anger of the proletariat
France’s ruling class faces a problem its British counterpart has temporarily suppressed: a militant, organised working class unwilling to accept endless sacrifice. Repeated strikes, mass demonstrations, and sustained opposition to pension reform show that social peace cannot be indefinitely imposed. As the polarisation of wealth continues its immoral trajectory, even liberal reformists in pursuit of kinder capitalism through balanced taxation will be confronted with the futility of their ambition and have to decide where their loyalties reside.
The dilemma for capitalist politicians is acute. They must wring an economic solution from a population that increasingly understands it is being robbed to preserve a system that no longer serves it. Neither technocratic compromise nor reformist tinkering can resolve this contradiction.
Capitalism is caput
The French crisis demonstrates that capitalism cannot be managed in the interests of the majority. There is no menu from which one can select fairness without expropriation, stability without class struggle, or prosperity without exploitation. Battle lines are being drawn.
The task for the working class is not to choose between competing austerity packages, but to organise independently, reject the logic of capitalist crisis management, and fight for a system in which the common good is real because exploitation has been abolished.
Capitalism offers only à la carte illusions. Socialism alone offers a way out.