From Pleading Guilty, by Scott Turow, published in 1993, a commentary on Neoliberals and free market capitalism:
"You’re turning out to be a much more complicated fellow than I imagined," said Pagnucci. I tipped my head slightly. I thought it might be a compliment. Before he opened my door, Carl said, "Keep me in the loop," then drifted off, smug and unruffled, leaving behind his usual aura: every soul for itself.
Rational self-interest is Carl’s creed. He worships at the altar of the free market. The same way Freud thought everything sex, Pagnucci believes all social interaction, no matter how complex, can be adjusted by finding a way to put a price on it. Urban housing. Education. We need competition and profit motive to make it all work. It is, I know, quite a theory. Let everybody struggle to get their bucket in the stream and then do what we like with the water they fish out. Some will make steam, some will take a drink, a few fellows or ladies will decide to take a bath. Entrepreneurship will flourish; people will be happy; we’ll get all this nifty indispensable stuff like balsamic vinegar and menthol cigarettes. But what kind of ethical social system takes as its fundamental precepts the words “I” “me” and “mine”? Our two-year-olds start like that and we spend the next twenty years trying to teach them there’s more than that to life.