The tragedy of the commons

Cows in an overgrazed commons.

Central Falls, Rhode Island, is bankrupt.  The city, at 1.29 square miles, was once famous as the most densely populated city in America. Bordered on the east by the Blackstone River, Central Falls was at the heart of early America’s Industrial Revolution. But water-powered foundries and textile mills quickly became a thing of that past, leaving Central Falls’ skilled workforce high and dry.

In more recent years, Central Falls’ politicians continued to spend money as if they still had a tax base. They made generous pension promises to the city unions who elected them, creating liabilities that couldn’t possibly be met. So now they are broke and retiree benefits have been slashed in half. There are no winners.

How did this happen?  The most likely cause is a phenomenon called “the tragedy of the commons,” a theory describing human behavior when dealing with shared resources.  Ecologist Garrett Hardin wrote an influential article on the topic in 1968, describing the behavior of a group of herders who all shared the same parcel of land.  Since no one herder owned the land, each was motivated to maximize personal return, resulting in overgrazing to the detriment of all.

This effect can be seen wherever private ownership is absent.  Fishing fleets deplete ocean fisheries.  Graffiti artists deface public property.  Vandals destroy anything that is not theirs.  Politicians make promises they cannot fulfill (it's not their money).

The good news is that humans are very resourceful, recognizing the problem and developing creative solutions.  Taking the long view, farmers often organized and regulated the use of common grazing lands.  The federal government allocates fishing rights and radio frequency spectra. And enlightened politicians recognize that heavy taxation and reckless spending impair the economy that supplies them with tax revenues.

Here is what you can do.  Be aware that the economy, whether local, national, or global, is a commons. We all rise or fall on the tide of jobs, capital, and opportunity thereby produced. The economy is enhanced by the animal spirits of individual entrepreneurs and investors and is depleted by the ravages of short-sighted politicians.

Make your choices wisely.  Take the long view.  Educate yourself. Remember that there is never something for nothing.

The people of Central Falls, often portrayed as victims, repeatedly elected their betrayers.  Be smarter than that. 

Baseball and a Sunday afternoon tragedy

Lewiston Daily Sun, Lewiston Maine. May 25, 1896

It was May 24th, 1896, 116 years ago, and the Puritan spirit still ran strong in Attleborough.  The town had not yet become a city nor dropped the “ugh”, and North Attleborough had just recently seceded. Local blue laws outlawed the selling of beer and, surprisingly, the playing of baseball on Sundays. And the prosecution of these crimes was relentless. 

On that beautiful Sunday afternoon, a group numbering fifty, mostly Irish members and friends from the East Side sporting club of Pawtucket, gathered at Robinson’s farm in South Attleboro.  It was the charter of the club to provide relaxation and leisure activities for the membership on Sundays, and they customarily visited bucolic spots outside of the city to achieve that end.

On the agenda that day were a clam bake and baseball game, the perfect antidotes for a long, hard, work week.   As the day progressed and the baseball game was well underway, someone snitched.  The Attleborough police somehow obtained information that a game of baseball was being played on the Sabbath and that the devil’s brew was being consumed. Soon after a squad of five policemen in civilian dress approached Robinson’s farm.

The Pawtucket sportsmen spied the strangers coming over the hill and suspected that their ball game was to be suspended.  Michael Connors, representing the club, approached the men and asked them their business.  Officer John Nerney, after first engaging in conversation regarding the baseball game, then asked if there was beer on the premises.  To this point the officers had not yet identified themselves as police, so Connors suggested they could stay if they paid a $1 assessment, otherwise they should move on.  Nerney reportedly exclaimed that Connors was “putting up a bluff,” at which point Nerney was ordered to leave.

Now, things quickly went awry.  Nerney pulled his .38 revolver and threatened to shoot unless Connors assumed a more docile attitude.  Connor, unfortunately, took several steps forward and tried to disarm Nerney, at which point a shot was fired and Connors was hit in the side.  Badly hurt, Connors struggled with Nerney and called out to his companions for help.  The other officers, drawn by the shooting and general clamor, gathered swiftly and tried to quell the fight.  One reportedly struck Connors with a blackjack.

Nerney, in a high state of excitement, pointed his revolver at Connors head and fired.  Connors dropped heavily, dead in his tracks.

Daniel Mountain, one of Connors' companions, was nearby and attempted to catch him as he fell.  Mountain apparently made some remarks to Nerney and soon after another shot rang out – Mountain fell, mortally wounded.  Edward Morse, another Pawtucket sportsman, demanded to know why the two men had been shot.  Nerney ordered him off under threat of being shot himself.  Morse wisely retreated.

Once they realized what Nerney had done, the other officers devoted themselves to the victims.  But Connors was already gone, and Mountain expired within a half hour.

The county Sheriff was notified of the events and within an hour, Officer Nerney himself was under arrest.  Nerney, when questioned, said that he did not know what happened, that he had lost all control of himself. 

To the utter shock of the friends, family, and children of the deceased, Nerney was ultimately and inexplicably exonerated. The news of this episode and its outcome was shocking and enthralling, and appeared in eastern newspapers from New Jersey to Maine.

Quite a sad tale, this, and leaves us with a few observations.

First, note that a modern, professional police force would never show up in civilian dress and fail to identify themselves.  And their use of force would be far more judiciously governed.  The potential for a repeat of this tragedy is vanishingly slim.

But, also, remember this – government is force.  If you disagree, try not paying your taxes on some principle, ignore the warnings, and wait until the U.S. Marshals show up in full SWAT regalia.  Government is force. Which is great cause for us to give thanks for the strength of our Constitution and its guaranteed freedoms.  It took many years for the grip of Puritanism to ease.  We don’t ever again want government to tell us that we can’t play baseball on Sunday.

The price is right

Soviet farm women search empty shelves for overshoes.

How is it that we can find fresh tomatoes in Manhattan in January while Soviet farm women struggled to obtain adequate footwear and were often faced with empty shelves?

A seemingly simple question, but one which reveals the power of a market economy and the importance of prices.

When you decide to buy something, price is a very important factor in your decision.  You may decide to buy McIntosh apples at $1.29, or perhaps Red Delicious at $1.39.  But you might decide to substitute bananas for your fruit, or buy nothing at all.  Any of these actions sends a signal to suppliers whether to provide more or less of which variety of apple, or perhaps bananas instead. 

When you participate in these economic decisions as a consumer or supplier, you become part of an enormously powerful, highly parallel, economic computer.  This computer, orders of magnitude more capable than IBM’s Watson, allocates resources to meet demand at prices that consumers will pay.  Hundreds of millions of decisions are made every day: prices accepted or rejected by consumers, set by competitors, and read by suppliers.

What happens when this mechanism is bypassed or distorted?  There is abundant evidence that we suffer shortages, unwanted surpluses, or unaffordable prices when government, in its hubris, attempts to plan supply or control prices.

At one extreme is the Soviet Union; it was a managed economy with faceless bureaucrats determining investment, resource allocation, and production schedules.  Over the period 1928 to 1991, the Soviet citizenry’s experience was one of chronic shortages of food, fuel, and consumer goods.  A bureaucracy, even armed with automation, cannot begin to approach the immense power of our collective  economic computer.

Our government can, and does, fiddle with our market economy, with less than stellar results.  There are many examples.

·       Subsidies cause high prices.  During the conversion from analog to digital TV transmission, the government offered $40 coupons for converter boxes.  You never saw a converter box offered for less than $40 – it became the new zero (price floor).  There is strong evidence that government grants and loan programs have contributed mightily to the inexorable rise in college tuition.  Scholarly  studies show that government subsidies of ethanol have resulted in higher corn prices.  (Have you noticed what a box of corn flakes now costs?)

·       Price controls create shortages. When the government puts a cap on prices, shortages result.  During the gasoline crisis of 1973, price caps resulted in widespread shortages and massive lines of people waiting to get a few gallons of scarce gasoline.  In an attempt to control "gouging" during emergencies, government price caps only insure that shortages will occur.

·        In the absence of price information, competition disappears. Our current health care system is a perfect example of the lack of price information inhibiting wise consumer decisions and supplier price competition.  The result?  The cost of health care rose 7.32% in the 12 months ending in August 2010 (last period available), while the general rate of inflation during that same period was 1.1%.  So why did health care costs increase nearly 7 times the rate of inflation?  Because consumers have no idea what services cost, and additionally, have no skin in the game.  After all, the insurance company will pay.

What can you (citizen, consumer, voter) do with this knowledge?  First, be very skeptical of your legislators.  They may think that they are superior to our human, economic supercomputer, but they are not.  Be wary of schemes that “control prices”.  That can only be done with effective competition and full knowledge of pricing.  Look askance at subsidies; they will only result in higher prices.  Meet with skepticism any proposal that does not engage the pricing mechanism to determine supply, and competition to moderate prices.  

More and better information is always the answer, so that you, the wise consumer, in concert with millions of your fellows, solve the equation of how much of what to produce at a price that consumers will pay.  This is equally true of apples and hospital stays.

The self-esteem movement gets an "F"

Illustration by C.S. McGuinness

Sometimes, there is great wisdom to be found on the comics pages. 

In a recent cartoon by Norm Feuiti, the eponymous young character Gil observes his collection of honors: a running trophy proclaiming “finisher,” a ribbon exclaiming “19^th place”, a bowling trophy triumphing a “72 average”, and an award recognizing “participant.”  Gil wryly observes, “I know they’re supposed to make me feel good, but really they just remind me of the things I’m not very good at.”

Garry Trudeau, in his well known strip “Doonesbury”, has young, spoiled character Jeff Redfern relocating his trophy collection to his new home.  Jeff observes, “It was so interesting growing up in the middle of the self-esteem movement.”  His dad, Rick, reads out the plaque on one of the trophies, “Most improved trier, second grade.”  Jeff recalls the moment and observes, “I tied with the rest of the class.”

So what’s the problem with the self-esteem movement and why is it dying?  Apparently, the results are in.  Instilled self-esteem, as opposed to earned, just doesn’t work.

Late last year, USA Today ran an article titled “Is narcissism killing innovation in America?” (December 21, 2011). The premise was that the self-esteem movement, by praising aimlessly, was suppressing incentive and achievement.  Economist and New York Times columnist Paul Krugman stated “By any reasonable standard, the change in how America lived between 1918 and 1957 was immensely greater than the change between 1957 and the present”.  While many factors have influenced this outcome, the self-esteem movement, which was quick to laud and loathe to criticize, seems complicit.

The article continues, “Essentially, when children are praised readily and frequently, regardless of their efforts' outcomes, there is no incentive for them to strive for genuine excellence — or even recognize that it can exist.”

Let’s start with a definition.  What is self esteem?  Very simply, it is a sense of well being, of self confidence and contentment, that arises from competence.  This means that when you are very good at something, you feel relaxed and comfortable in your skin.  Self esteem is a good thing.  But here’s where the self esteem movement went awry. Because you must be very good at something to have high self esteem, it cannot be gifted.  It must be earned.

While teachers and parents love and greatly care for their charges and offspring, they cannot instill self-esteem by bestowing inane awards.  The child, him or herself, must actually become good at something in order to develop a sense of self esteem.  In fact, the teacher or parent who attempts to shortcut this process is harming the child. The child must strive, and fail, and learn; then strive and fail, and succeed.  If you protect her from failing, she cannot succeed.

Self esteem is situational.  If you are not a skilled brain surgeon, you would feel uncomfortable (lack self-esteem) if forced into that role.  Likewise, the brain surgeon would be very uneasy asked to rebuild an automatic transmission or erect a skyscraper.  We are all good at certain things and not so much at others.  As Will Rogers famously said, “We are all ignorant, only on different subjects.”

So what is the path to happiness and a fulfilling life?  I think it is a clear choice.  Young people must find those which are their innate talents, which come naturally and are fulfilling.  Then practice and learn and become expert in those skills.  Finally, find a vocation that requires those strengths.

To work at some profession only for the social status that it conveys, or the wages that it pays, is empty and hollow if you doubt yourself every day. It is far more fulfilling to perform a labor of love, to exercise your strengths and feel the power of self-confidence.

Find out what you are good at, develop those skills, and make them your life’s work.  You will be happier, your loved ones will find you more pleasant, and the economy will benefit.  Where’s the downside?

The greening of the lawn

In these carbon-capped, green-conscious days, you can tell it’s spring when the weekend warriors shake the dust off of their lawn tractors and fire them up.  Their lawns are to be aerated, rolled, fertilized, herbicided, pesticided, and overseeded.  The goal – putting green regularity.

There is another way.

My grandpa loved his lawn, and he loved his tractor, but he also loved birds, rabbits, frogs, and all the other denizens of his yard.  He took a much gentler approach and always seemed to end up with a thriving ecosystem. I use his methods today and they seem to work for me.

Dandelions are the scourge of the modern suburban lawn.  Never mind that they are quite tasty, eaten by farm folks and our old-world ancestors.  And that an entire field of them in full bloom is a golden treat to the eyes.  But the downside is that they spread very easily, the downy seeds lofted by the slightest breeze.  So if your neighbor is trying to eradicate dandelions, you are doing him no favor by allowing yours to flourish.

Herbicides are harsh and have side effects on the environment all the way from your lawn, down the watershed, and into Narragansett Bay.  An alternative method to control dandelions takes a little effort but in return gives you some exercise and time to commune with your yard.  First, find an old butter knife, a bucket, and a glove for your working hand.  Now patrol your yard in a regular circuit, looking for the telltale yellow blossoms.  Kneel down and plunge the butter knife into the soil, vertically alongside the plant’s tap root.  Now gather up the leaves and press the plant against the side of the butter knife, twist and gently pull till the whole thing pops out of the ground.  Toss the uprooted dandelion into the bucket and make sure to dispose of them before the blossoms turn to seed.  Keep at it until the lawn has no more yellow.  This will need to be repeated from time to time as new plants blossom.

Grubs are the most destructive pest your lawn can possibly know.  The grub itself eats the roots of your grass and makes it weak.  Then crows and skunks will dig for the delicious (to them) grubs, leaving your lawn a wasteland.  The most effective protection is to kill the grubs.  Milky spore, a cultured bacterium, is your best defense.  It is a bit expensive, but once applied, will protect your lawn for fifteen to twenty years.

Moss is thought a pest, but why?  It only likes bare areas and does not kill existing grass.  Think of moss as an alternative ground cover.  It is cool and offers a smooth texture to your bare feet.  Just enjoy it.

Mowing style can make a huge difference.  If you cut your grass too short, it will wither, dry out, and die.  Instead, cut it no shorter than 2 ½ to 3 inches.  By keeping your grass tall, it will offer more leaf area to the sun, provide more cooling shade to the ground, and encourage the roots to grow deeper.  Use a mulching mower and allow the clippings to remain; they will help retain moisture and decompose, fertilizing the grass. Your lawn will remain a deep green even in the doldrums of August.

Finally, if there is an area of your lawn that just refuses to cooperate, due perhaps to sandy soil or inadequate drainage, just give up.  Till the soil and plant perennials and ground cover, turning it into a natural area.  The birds, butterflies, and rabbits will thank you.

After a year or two, you will find that your lawn has become a robust ecosystem of hearty grass, violets, moss, and clover, supporting a community of rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and butterflies.  It’s as if you were living in a national park.

Or, you could surround yourself with a perfect, sterile, putting green.

Pilgrim's Progress

Johnny cakes on a wood-fired griddle.

After landing at Plymouth in 1620 and surviving that first terrible winter, the Pilgrims set about repaying their debts.  While the voyage to the New World was undertaken to escape religious persecution, it was an expensive venture and required backing.  The congregation obtained funding from the Company of Merchant Adventurers of London, a for-profit group of overseas trading merchants. They fully expected a return on their investment.

Due to the hardships of the colony’s early years and some mismanagement, the rate of repayment was slow and the Merchant Adventurers pressed for redoubled efforts.  By 1625, the Pilgrims concluded that the fur trade would offer the most viable means to retire their debt.  They were able to obtain a charter from the King granting them rights on the Kennebec River in what is today the state of Maine.

So the Pilgrims built a shallop, a sailing vessel designed for coastal navigation, and set out for Merrymeeting Bay, 200 miles to the north, then up into the Kennebec River.  Twenty five miles upriver, at the head of the tide where current and tides mark the extreme of navigable water, they established a trading post at Cushnoc, the site of modern-day Augusta.

The indigenous tribe, the Abenaki, were anxious to trade.  They had abundant furs to offer in exchange for corn, of which the Pilgrims were producing a surplus, and other goods. As Governor Bradford put it, “not only with corn, but also with such other commodities as the fishermen had traded with them, as coats, shirts, rugs and blankets, biscuit, pease [sic], prunes, etc.”  In exchange for a shallop-load of corn sailed up the river, 700 pounds of beaver pelts came back down.  With beaver fur in great demand in London, the Pilgrims were able to satisfy their debts by 1636.

What industry, skill, and self-reliance.  Within several years of carving the Plymouth colony out of the wilderness, the Pilgrims were producing a surplus of corn in large quantities.  They downed timber, hewed planks, and built a sturdy coastal sailing vessel without power tools.  They sailed over 200 miles and established a mutually beneficial trading relationship with the Abenakis. They paid off their debts.

Today in Augusta, at the site of the Cushnoc trading post on the banks of the Kennebec, stands Old Fort Western.  The fort was built in 1754 to provide security and encourage settlement of the area.  It has been restored and operates as a living museum, with docents dressed in period clothing demonstrating daily activities such as cooking, gardening, soap making, quilting, and blacksmithy. 

One spunky, 80 year-old docent, dressed in a heavy ankle-length woolen dress, showed us how to make Johnny cakes on a wood fired griddle.  She explained that early cooks toasted bread over the coals using tongs, and how pleased they were to get the new-fangled toaster which held two slices of bread upright, facing the coals to be toasted.  And how the whole contraption could be flipped around to toast the other side… modern miracles!

She told us of a bright, inquisitive 8 year-old who she asked to participate by placing bread into the toaster.  He indicated that he didn’t know how.  “Just like your toaster at home,” she explained.  “I’m not allowed to touch the toaster at home,” he replied, embarrassed.  “It’s electric,” his mother clarified.

Our docent contrasted this to another young man who she asked to hang a pot of water from a hook over the coals.  He did so, handily, and she didn’t notice till later that he had a withered arm.  He had compensated with no fuss by using his forearm.

“Just which of these boys is truly handicapped?” she mused.

I think we know what the Pilgrims would say.

Rocky Mountain High

Mountains shrouded in snow storm - Steamboat Springs.

It is 2,062 miles from Block Island to Steamboat Springs, Colorado, via Interstate 80, the most direct route.  Google Maps warns that the route includes a ferry boat and tolls, apparently not an obstacle to some local folks who found themselves drawn to the high mountains in northwestern Colorado. Mike Doyle and Courtney Parks, friends, worked together at The Oar on Block Island, overlooking the Great Salt Pond (can you say wonderful fish tacos?).

When Mike succumbed to the draw of the western mountains, he convinced Courtney to join him.  They are coworkers again at La Montana, a creative Southwestern cuisine restaurant in Steamboat where we happened to meet them. Mike’s 10 year old son is learning to ski the steep, deep, fresh powder at Steamboat.  And Courtney’s goal is to keep up with the youngster.   Courtney is a 2006 graduate of Attleboro High School.  Mike is a native of nearby Warwick, RI.

Later that night, stopping at a local grocery to purchase a bottle of wine, the clerk insisted on identification in spite of my obvious seniority.  The young man, peering at my license, excitedly exclaimed “I was born in Attleboro!”  He had attended Colorado Mountain College five years ago and decided to stay.

The next night, having dinner at another wonderful restaurant (the Truffle Pig), our server turned out to be a Newton, MA, native, the home town of our dining companions. Stephanie had attended the University of Colorado at Boulder, then drifted west to Steamboat, and it stuck.  The skiing, perhaps?

What’s with all of these local folks headed west?  It’s as if Horace Greeley’s exhortation, “Go west, young man,” were still in effect.

Steamboat Springs is situated in the Yampa River Valley, some 150 miles northwest of Denver at an altitude of nearly 7,000 feet.  Because the continental divide is a few miles to the east, the snow melt drains into the Yampa, then the Colorado, then to the Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean.  Steamboat is truly in the old west.

Early French trappers entering the Yampa Valley heard a loud chugging sound.  “Steamboat!” they exclaimed.  But no, it was the result of hot springs fed by Hahn’s Peak, a young, dormant volcano 30 miles to the north. Hot water was filling a small underground chamber and loudly chuffing as it was expelled.  But the name stuck and Steamboat Springs it became.  The hot springs remain a destination for seekers of hot, mineral, healthy soaks and general communication with nature. 

The Ute Indians had long used the Yampa Valley as a summer hunting ground, harvesting deer and elk and preparing for the always coming winter.  Initially their relationship with the settlers was good until they ran afoul of the Federal government’s directive to convert them from nomads to farmers and to be resettled on a reservation in eastern Utah.  The Meeker Massacre was the unfortunate outcome, deserving its own story on the atrocious treatment of America’s native peoples.

Agriculture was an early success story in the Yampa River Valley. Once the railroad connected Steamboat Springs to Denver, strawberries, potatoes, lettuce, and dairy products were transported daily.  The eventual  agricultural colossus of California made the economics of farming in Steamboat unprofitable.  So the locals turned to ranching, raising cattle and horses.  We experienced that one chilly winter evening at the Bar Lazy L Ranch, who treated us to a long sleigh ride pulled by huge Percheron horses followed by a cowboy dinner of steak, chicken, and trout in a cozy, wood fire-heated barn.

The Percherons, originally bred in France to carry knights in armor, are a hardy lot, spending the entire winter outside .  Even at -60F degrees, they remain outside.  On a mild winter day, they might consume 25 pounds of hay.  On the coldest day, perhaps 45 pounds.  The Bar Lazy L puts up 90 tons of hay to see their 30 horses though the winter each year.  Ranching is a dicey game.  One wag was heard to say “If I won a million dollars, I reckon I’d keep on ranching till it was all gone.”

So why have all these easterners wandered from Massachusetts and Rhode Island to Steamboat and found it sticky?  A wonderful ski resort with plentiful powder and peaks soaring well over 10,500 feet must be part of the answer.

But perhaps Greeley’s full quotation, "Go West, young man, go West. There is health in the country, and room away from our crowds of idlers and imbeciles,"  is even more true today than in the 1800s.