We were having dinner with friends. We had talked about lots of stuff and got to talking about the movies. We were talking about “Seabiscuit.” I proposed that “Seabiscuit” demonstrated an ideal, a form of balanced and benevolent capitalism. My more cynical friends thought the idea a bit optimistic. I argued the movie was an allegory, that the owner, though interested in profit, was balanced by a desire to achieve some altruistic good.

Management, the horse trainer, understood his role, protecting the owner’s investment, but using his skill and experience to help the owner achieve not only profit, but a greater good. Labor, both horse and jockey, were nurtured by the partnership of capital and management. Given freedom and opportunity, labor produced something extraordinary, something greater. This unified performance was stirring, it was art. Thus, I argued, is the world made better.

They were having none of it. What capitalist, they asked, would give his laborer $20 to go to the dentist? One, I said, who was willing to invest in the productivity of healthy and happy laborers. And the owner, they said, wasn’t interested in the money; his motive was to replace a lost son, to fill an empty life. Were he motivated by money, he never would have allowed a broken jockey back onto a taped-up horse, he’d have kept the healthy jockey on top. I argued, otherwise, but persuaded no one. I left believing I was right, believing enlightened capitalism is possible, benevolent self-interest can be achieved. But I felt alone.

I was talking to a high school kid yesterday. I saw him on the golf course, and played a few holes with him. He told me he’d heard the new KU athletic director had decided KU didn’t get anything out of letting Free State play its football games there. The rumor is that after this year the high school kids will have to find somewhere else to play. No profit in being a good neighbor, no margin in good will. The athletic corporation is, after all, a corporation, and the directive is profit.

Then I thought about the brouhaha over $50 swimming passes for the octogenarian KU staff and their equally octogenarian spouses. Some administrator, looking at the bottom line, figured out there was no profit in it for KU. The good news is a higher up saw the decision as what it is, a public relations nightmare, and gave the old people back their keys to the Robinson Pool.

Then I was at the courthouse in Kansas City, talking to a couple of fellow lawyers. I heard them talking about the old people who were being moved out of their basketball seats at Allen Fieldhouse. KU has the right to do it, was the general sentiment. We all know the law. The law of capitalism. What’s in it for me? There are others who can contribute more to the program. New facilities require money. So do better coaches.

I thought about “Seabiscuit” again; I guess the naysayers are right. It’s not possible. It’s just a movie. It couldn’t happen that way, at least not for very long. Capitalism needs profit. Enlightened capitalism is merely business feeding from the bottom line. I’m better now. Now I don’t feel quite so alone.

— Bill Skepnek is a Lawrence attorney.