The Glass Tower and the Power of Capital
Paul, a dedicated stock clerk in the massive fulfillment center of OmniCorp, smoothed the front of his sweater. He was about to meet with Helen, the company’s CEO. For weeks, he and his colleagues had tried to form a union to negotiate for a living wage—a living wage that would lift them out of poverty and allow them to afford the very goods they handled every day. As Paul entered the executive boardroom, a space gleaming with glass and chrome, he felt small. He felt insignificant. At the far end of the vast room, bathed in the cool light of floor-to-ceiling windows, sat Helen. Her tailored suit spoke of unimaginable wealth, and a faint, knowing smile played on her lips.
To Paul, she didn’t just look wealthy; she looked monumental. She was a figure of unassailable power, like an executive giant. When she raised her hand, Paul almost instinctively took a step back. But then, a surreal scene unfolded. As Paul stepped onto the conference table, Helen extended her hand, palm upward. In a moment that blurred the line between the metaphorical and the physical, Paul found himself standing in the literal palm of her hand. He was, quite literally, one of the “little people” she controlled.
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