There’s something especially chilling about someone who approaches murder
not as a moral problem, but as a logistical one.
Here, Breaking Bad’s Gus Fring carefully and deliberately changes into a hazmat suit,
brutally murders his most faithful associate and then just as calmly washes up.
Gus’ motivations aren’t passionate, they're purely logical:
Victor has to die because he was spotted at a crime scene
and that might compromise Gus’ business interests.
Gus needs to teach Walter and Jesse a lesson.
Two birds with one boxcutter.
[Well?
Get back to work.]
Before we go on, we want to talk a little bit
about this video's sponsor -- Skillshare.
Skillshare is a superb online learning community with thousands of classes about everything.
Bitcoin trading, playing guitar, stop-motion animation.
Click the link in the description below to get 2 months access to all classes
for free.
If Walt’s evil superpower is chemistry, then Gus’ superpowers are optimization
and efficiency.
[Now thank me, and shake my hand.]
With Gus, Breaking Bad explores the questions, what would it be like if drug dealing
was treated like any other business --
and what happens when a person lives his entire life like he's a corporation?
[Ahh es el businessman, Que bien, que bien.]
The always professional Gus is the opposite of what we might expect
when we think "drug dealer."
So Gus becomes a foil to the other drug dealers we get to know
in Breaking Bad --
especially Tuco, Hector and even, Walter.
[Animals.]
Tuco Salamanca is driven by impulse.
[I don't need your punk ass to vouch for me!]
Every move Gus makes is calculated to pay off.
[I investigate everyone with whom I do business.
What careful man wouldn't?]
Tuco controls his minions with fear and erratic rage.
Gus reads people and manipulates them with just the right type
of positive reinforcement.
[3 million dollars for 3 months of your time.]
His phrasing here gratifies Walt’s ego, by emphasizing how important he is,
how valuable his time is.
[What -- what was the offer, if I may ask?]
[It’s, uh, 3 million, for three months of my time.]
Hector Salamanca is an old-school drug dealer governed by rules like blood for blood
and family before everything.
[La familia es todo.]
But Gus recognizes these kind of principles as ineffective.
[This is what comes of blood for blood, Hector.
Sangre por Sangre.]
The only family Gus seems to care about are his employees,
[Those men outside are my trusted employees.]
and even then, still only up to the point that they help his businesses
and aren’t a liability.
Like Tuco, Hector solves problems by threatening his rivals.
But Gus, even when baited, remains
completely professional, composed
[Adding more product will threaten the reliability of the entire operation.]
and doesn’t reveal himself.
Hector and Gus are set up as life-long foes in Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul
because, in addition to their bad blood, they’re existential opposites --
each seems offended by the other’s very nature
and can’t abide his way of operating in the drug business.
Walter, with his scientific and reasoned approach,
is more similar to Gus, or so he’d like to think.
[I was told that the man I would be meeting with
is very careful.
A cautious man.
I believe we’re alike in that way.]
But Gus knows better.
[I don’t think we’re alike at all, Mr. White.]
The key difference between Walt and Gus is ego.
Walt secretly really wants people to see that he's finally rich and powerful.
Gus never flaunts his wealth or power.
[You are a wealthy man now.
And one must learn to be rich.
To be poor, anyone can manage.]
And Gus sees the value in keeping up humble appearances.
After all the idiots and maniacs we’ve seen,
it’s refreshing when we meet Gus,
[Can I help you, sir?]
and witness his rejection of old-school thuggishness
in favor of a more reasonable, corporate management style.
After all, we the viewers are rooting for Walt and Jesse's hardy little start up,
so it’s a relief to see it safe for a time under the wing of a capable parent company.
[Your new lab.]
In our American context, this feels like success.
But over time, Gus’ character also leads us to question --
how is drug dealing different from other businesses?
And is a corporate mindset applied to crime actually scarier than the old-fashioned ways?
[I need 200 pounds per week to make this economically viable.]
In Gus's mind, meth is a commodity, no different
from the chicken he sells.
He discusses his operation only in the vocabulary of business.
[How much product do you have on hand?]
[I have always done business with certain local manufacturers.]
[I don’t believe fear to be an effective motivator,
I want investment.]
Professor David Pierson examines the connection between Gus’ business tactics
and neoliberalism.
Neoliberalism prioritizes a free market --
the idea is that the less involvement the government has in the market,
the better it is for the economy and for the consumer.
Pierson points out that for neoliberals, crime is an inevitable part of society
and it can even be a totally rational choice.
In neoliberal thought a criminal is, quote,
“a rational economic actor who contemplates and calculates the risks of his actions.”
And who embodies this rational criminal if not Gus,
whose every action is dictated not by emotion, but by opportunity.
Furthermore, Pierson points out that methamphetamine is just one drug
among a class of “performance enhancer” substances,
that “have become both the fuel
and the product for the neoliberal fetish for productivity.”
Most products in this class are legal, like caffeine, energy drinks, steroids,
Viagra, and prescribed Adderall --
which by the way is very close to meth chemically.
But looking at this list, it's clear that meth
is hardly the only product that's highly profitable and desired,
while also being harmful to consumers.
And if you think about it, how different is a typical large company
from Gus’ drug empire in terms of the collateral damage it causes?
Even if most major global corporations don’t trade drugs that directly kill people,
many cut corners in ways that damage lives and the planet.
[It's basic, simple money-laundering, and HSBC had its hand right in the middle
of it.]
[Drug cartels themselves, yeah, you know, in their own words,
it is the place to bank.]
Look at it this way: Gus sells two things --
one is a popular consumer product that is targeted at low income populations
and with long-term consumption can contribute to disease and death;
the other is methamphetamine.
[One taste and you'll know.]
So, through Gus, the show communicates that, if the first priority is always profit,
consumer well-being will always come second, and so will employee well-being
for that matter.
By showing us this fearsome drug dealer businessman,
Breaking Bad points out that the ruthlessness,
immorality and harm we associate with crime
are less connected to the “drugs” part
than to the “business” part of Gus’ operation.
[Pollos Hermanos, where something delicious is always cooking.]
So with Gus, Breaking Bad shows the dangers of the capitalist model,
which does undeniably, like Gus, appear so attractive for a while.
Some argue that Gus's inspiration for building his drug empire
was to avenge the death of his partner Maximino.
Gus certainly is fixated on torturing the person who killed his partner --
Hector Salamanca.
And Gus embodies the maxim that revenge is a dish best served cold --
by waiting and crafting the perfect plan, he maximizes his enemies’ suffering.
[Don Eladio, Don Paco, Cesar, Reynaldo, Ortuno, Cisco, and Luis.
Escalara.
All dead.]
The cold, burning hatred deep inside Gus,
this desire to settle scores that partially drives him,
may be a commentary on what’s emotionally driving
the ultra-ambitious leaders of corporations, too.
This clip from the show Billions supports a similar idea.
[Hate is nature's most perfect energy source.
It's endlessly renewable.]
Yet the show doesn’t fully resolve the mystery of whether this controlled,
festering hate causes Gus’ need to succeed,
or if he’s already programmed to seek corporate success,
and the vengeance motive is simply extra fuel.
Gus was set on selling meth before Maximino’s death,
[This product is the drug of the future.]
and if his only priority were vengeance
he could have had that cold satisfaction a lot earlier.
He poisons all of Don Eladio’s associates only when the timing is right --
when can’t afford to work with them anymore because the cartel’s animosity toward him
combined with Hank's suspicions might result in him being found out.
Thus the primary motive in this takeover isn't revenge, but growth --
the goal every corporation reaches for above all,
no matter the cost.
In a competition-based marketplace, a business is considered healthy
only when it’s constantly growing, overcoming competitors
and claiming new territories.
[I have a very large investment in this.
There's so much overhead
that I can't afford to shut down.
Not even for a week.]
Clearly, more crystal meth is worse for society,
so growth in Gus’ case is a negative for public health.
But the same can be said of many corporations who are so set on growing
that they have no concern for public health, for the environment,
or for whether the world actually needs more of their product.
With Gus’ growth mentality, Breaking Bad is subtly questioning the values
underlying capitalism itself.
Gus’ dual nature as a person is also a commentary
on the split between the outward faces of corporations
and their true inner operations and intentions.
On the surface, Gus is a benevolent philanthropist
and a model citizen.
[Gus Fring is a pillar of our local business community.]
He provides jobs and security for hundreds of people.
[My friends, I promise you that together we will prosper.]
But the bottom line with Gus is always what’s best for business,
[I hide in plain sight, same as you.]
and the show highlights the dissonance between his warm public persona
and his cold private mind.
[A DEA hero should never have to pay for a meal at Pollos Hermanos.]
To convey this duality, Giancarlo Esposito plays Gus with small, disconcerting incongruities
in his speech and physicality.
Gus smiles often, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
[Do it.]
Gus’ warm and cordial exterior reminds us of companies’ consumer-friendly
speak
in their advertising and PR campaigns,
but that down-to-earth rhetoric is often at odds
with their coldly profit-driven agendas.
[Yes, the old ways are still best at Los Pollos Hermanos.]
Ultimately, Gus’ two faces are capitalism’s two faces.
At first, we’re fascinated by Gus and we see a lot of the positive face --
there’s his focus on and achievement of success,
his somewhat self-made nature,
his discipline, his meticulous organization, and his amazing work ethic.
But over time, we see more of the negative face,
the lethal, cold, inhuman bottom line.
[I will kill your wife.
I will kill your son.
I will kill your infant daughter.]
By the end, Breaking Bad shows the ugly truths of the capitalist mentality
through Gus’ character.
It reveals the destructiveness of the “winner-take-all”
growth-obsessed mindset -- a mindset that can be traced
to many of our crises in recent decades -- the dot com bubble,
the financial crashes of 2008, the Facebook data scandal.
And when it comes to drugs, today’s opioid epidemic was largely brought
on
by the corporate pushing of oxycodone for huge profits --
the founding of corporate drug empires that are somehow legal.
In the moment of Gus’ death, his two faces become literal.
And his final gesture is to straighten his tie,
a detail which perfectly captures who he’s become.
In his last moments on Earth, Gus isn’t thinking about loved ones
or seeing his life flash before his eyes -- he's just correcting his outer presentation.
There’s a hollowness in this final gesture that tells us the man inside him is gone.
Only the capitalist is left, driven to the end by appearances
and effectiveness --
an empty husk of a man wearing an impeccable suit.
[If you have a complaint, I suggest you submit it through our email
system.]
Maybe you're thinking of creating your own start-up
like these two, but one that's, you know, legal.
If you are, you should check out Skillshare's classes
on business and entrepreneurship.
They're taught by seasoned pros like Gary Vaynerchuk,
who grew his family's business from 3 million to 45 million dollars.
[I love social media because it sells shit.
This is class is really kind of, take the IP that sits in this brain
and transfer into people and give them kind of
the foundation and the framework to understand that we're living through
contest world, not just a contact world.
Plus, Skillshare has classes in design, photography, social media,
videography, animation and more.
In fact, Skillshare has actually helped us at ScreenPrism learn more
about animation and design.
They offer 18,000 classes about any skill you might want to learn,
all for less than $10 a month.
Right now you can get 2 months' access to all their classes for free.
But that's only if you're one of the first 500 people
who click the link in our description below.
It's a great deal -- so hurry up and don't miss out.