If workers are more insecure, that's very 'healthy' for the

In the piercing words of Noam Chomsky, philosopher, linguist, and defender of human dignity, we encounter a truth both uncomfortable and profound: “If workers are more insecure, that's very 'healthy' for the society, because if workers are insecure, they won't ask for wages, they won't go on strike, they won't call for benefits; they'll serve the masters gladly and passively. And that's optimal for corporations' economic health.” Beneath these words lies not praise, but condemnation—a searing indictment of a world where the well-being of the many is sacrificed upon the altar of profit. Chomsky, speaking with the voice of the ancient prophets, unmasks the illusion of “health” that hides within systems of control and inequality. His message is as timeless as it is urgent: a society that thrives on fear is sick at its very core.

The origin of this truth lies in the long and tragic dance between power and labor. From the dawn of civilization, those who control wealth have sought to keep those who labor subdued. In ancient Egypt, the pharaohs called it divine order; in medieval Europe, it was called feudal loyalty; in the modern age, it is called “economic efficiency.” Yet the pattern remains the same—when the worker is insecure, the master grows strong. Chomsky, speaking in the age of global capitalism, merely stripped away the veil to show that the old chains had taken new forms—contracts, policies, and debts instead of whips and manacles. His words are not the cry of despair but the warning of a sage who has seen history repeat itself through countless generations.

Consider the story of the Industrial Revolution, when the smoke of progress darkened the skies of England. In that time, men, women, and even children toiled for endless hours in factories, their bodies spent, their spirits bent. The wealthy called it advancement, but the workers called it survival. Those who dared to protest were branded agitators; those who submitted were praised as loyal. Insecurity became the tool of obedience. Yet from those ashes rose the unions, the reformers, the dreamers who declared that dignity is not a luxury—it is a birthright. Their courage gave rise to the very labor protections that Chomsky warns are once again being eroded by the subtle tyrannies of fear.

The “health” that Chomsky speaks of is a dark irony, a mask worn by exploitation. When corporations call insecurity “healthy,” they mean it sustains their power, not the people’s. It keeps workers silent, grateful for scraps, afraid to question injustice. A fearful populace is easy to rule, for fear turns men into servants and communities into markets. True health, as the ancients knew, is balance—the harmony of body, mind, and society. A nation where the wealthy live in abundance while the workers live in anxiety is not a healthy body, but a diseased one—its heart weak, its soul decaying beneath the glitter of profit.

And yet, Chomsky’s message is not only one of warning—it is one of awakening. For he reminds us that security is not granted by rulers but built by solidarity. When workers unite in purpose, when communities stand as one, the chains of fear begin to break. It was so in the days of the Roman plebeians demanding their rights from the patricians; it was so in the civil rights marches of the twentieth century; it remains so today wherever ordinary people refuse to bow before power. The antidote to insecurity is not despair, but collective courage.

The lesson of Chomsky’s words is therefore clear: beware of any system that calls your suffering “necessary,” your fear “efficient,” your silence “peace.” The health of a society must be measured not by the wealth of its elites, but by the freedom and dignity of its workers. If those who labor cannot rest, if they must choose between obedience and starvation, then the nation itself is enslaved. To preserve true health, each generation must guard against complacency, must speak when silence is demanded, must stand when kneeling is easier.

So, let this teaching pass from age to age: fear is the favorite tool of tyranny, and insecurity its sharpest blade. Do not let it sever the bonds between you and your fellow beings. Remember always that your worth is not bestowed by employers, governments, or markets—it is innate, divine, unassailable. When workers lift their heads and see one another as brothers and sisters, the masters tremble, for unity is stronger than any chain.

In the end, Chomsky’s words are both a mirror and a torch. They show us the reflection of our current age—a world where profit often triumphs over humanity—but they also light the path forward. Let us choose a higher kind of health: the health of justice, the health of compassion, and the health of courage. For in a truly sound society, no one thrives by keeping another afraid, and no one serves gladly who is not first free.