Mitt, a pirate? I don't think so.
In the continuing quest to portray Willard Mitt Romney as the prototypical kleptocrat, some have taken to referring to him as a “pirate”.
Piracy is the stuff of legends, as colorful and courageous men (and women, by the way), risked life and limb in the quest for treasure on the high seas. Typical career endpoints included being captured and hanged, drowning, and death or disability from disease or injury.
Lately, the term “piracy” has come to mean a much less risky endeavor: simply ripping off products, ideas, and technologies and using them for personal gain or selling them to others. While that does sound like a business model that Mitt might embrace, remember that he is not some penny-ante dabbler in stealing from the Man.
Mitt’s lucrative deals involve entire businesses. Let the kids download music illegally, make and sell pirated DVDs, or run the factory making knock-off Calloway golf clubs, Rolex watches, and Prada handbags. Mitt probably wouldn’t deal in that sort of thing, not because it’s illegal and it would cut into the profit margin of good companies, but because the market’s already saturated.
So for purposes of the following exploration, let us consider the seafaring pirates as the exemplar, and leave the modern pirates for another time.
Your prototypical pirate of old was a nonconformist, someone who chafed at the constraints of the shore life (or had some very compelling reasons to be offshore, beyond the long arm of the law or the retribution of those they’d crossed). From our armchairs or movie theater seats, this might seem exciting and romantic, but days and nights of living on a rickety ship on tempest-tossed seas eating crappy food with unwashed shipmates probably got old pretty quickly. The upside, of course, was the prospect of seizing Other People’s Assets, and working with other cool and quirky folks in the process.
Follow along below the buried treasure for more…
Unlike Mitt, pirates were willing to risk everything. Every time they left port, they knew that this might be the last time they would see their loved ones. It might be the last journey they ever made. They might return empty-handed. They might lose a limb. They might contract a deadly illness. They might die at sea, never reaching the treasure that would enrich their mates.
Unlike Mitt, pirates were colorful characters, flaunting convention, scorning society’s expectations for style and behavior. Instead of a closet full of pin-striped suits and white shirts (or ironed jeans and hastily bought hokey plaid shirts), their attire ran the gamut from threadbare rags and bare feet to leather and silk pirate chic.
Unlike Mitt, pirates made bold choices. Risking capture and/or death on a daily basis, they knew that anything short of full commitment to the mission would be disastrous. They didn’t hedge their bets. They went all in. When the ship pulled away from the shore, they didn’t look back.
Unlike Mitt, pirates didn’t whine. With Mitt at the helm, it would have been a never-ending litany of maritime injustices. It’s too cold. The gruel’s too thin. The sea’s too rough. This map must be off. I just can’t get good help. Look at this deck! It’s a disgrace, for Pete’s sake!
Unlike Mitt, pirates lived by a code that embodies many elements that are much more aligned with Progressive Democratic principles than the GOP’s “I’ve Got Mine; Screw You” philosophy:
Unlike traditional Western societies of the time, many Caribbean pirate crews of European descent operated as limited democracies. Pirate communities were some of the first to instate a system of checks and balances similar to the one used by the present-day United States and many other countries. The first record of such a government aboard a pirate sloop dates to the 17th century.
Both the captain and the quartermaster were elected by the crew; they, in turn, appointed the other ship's officers. The captain of a pirate ship was often a fierce fighter in whom the men could place their trust, rather than a more traditional authority figure sanctioned by an elite.
Mitt, of course, would be the “elite” in this scenario. His men might follow him to the ends of the earth, but only as a matter of morbid curiosity. As the CEO, he has become accustomed to demanding the blind loyalty of his employees. Step out of line? Walk the plank.
Unlike Mitt, pirates were pioneers in providing employee benefits:
Many groups of pirates shared in whatever they seized; pirates injured in battle might be afforded special compensation similar to medical or disability insurance.
There are contemporary records that many pirates placed a portion of any captured money into a central fund that was used to compensate the injuries sustained by the crew. Lists show standardised payments of 600 pieces of eight ($156,000 in modern currency) for the loss of a leg down to 100 pieces ($26,800) for loss of an eye.
Under Mitt’s vision, this system would be repealed on Day One. Thereafter, the captain would get all the treasure and the crew would be fired (or in keeping with the prevailing labor practices of the day, hanged or drowned). Nothing personal; it’s just business.
So please: if you have any respect at all for the pirates of old, don’t tarnish their reputations by aligning them with Mitt. He’s many things - including a kleptocrat - but he's not a pirate. He hasn't got the guts.