The problem with that question is the assumption that you can’t.
Thing is, you can change the world. People do it all the time. Sure, being rich or powerful is what most think of--supernaturally powerful in many cases, but that's just impatience.
For example? Need to be a millionaire first? Fine--an astonishingly small amount of money set aside each week in a very conservative no-load mutual fund will generate millions over a normal work life. Most people don't, excuses in place. Yet you'll see stories every so often about a janitor who leaves five million to cancer research--how'd that happen?
Many people then turn to the vote. Yes, that's important--vote. Excuses quickly enter here too--there's no one worth voting for, politicians don't care anyway, it's all about money and so forth. Let's take a look:
No one worth voting for? Both major parties have fielded a dozen candidates of all different factions of their parties. Third parties are alive and well--and some are growing. All of those candidates start with "retail politics," talking to one person at a time. When they can't do this, their supporters do. I once heard an interview with the founders of Greenpeace and Earth Day. They were asked how they got such large movements going from the ground up. they both said the same thing: "talk to one person, then talk to another person, then talk to another person." And hey, you could always make a small donation to your favorite candidate--millions of those small donations mean major campaign funds.
Politicians don't care? Ever write to one? No time? Hell, how long does it take to write a letter? Or an email? People do the equivalent here all the time.. Send one a week, one a month, one a season, one a year--but you'll find (1) you will get a response and (2) they do pay attention--literally add up the pros/cons, etc--your letter marks you as a likely voter. I have even used my elected officials for help resolving business and governmental problems, quite successfully. (I can't call the Comptroller of the Currency about a bank pushing me around inappropriately--but my Senator sure can!).
I've addressed the money issue in part in two different ways already, so let's move on....
The above are some typical ways people think about changing the world. This post is about the ways they overlook.
One person can most definitely change the world. A patent clerk in Switzerland named Albert wonders what it would be like to ride a motorcycle across the universe at the speed of light, and in 1905, publishes a paper--that will in time lead to nuclear weapons and nuclear poser. James Watts wonders if the natural heating and cooling of water could help drive a pump to solve the constant drainage problem he faced--and started the Industrial Revolution. A messy scientist notices his poor housekeeping has spawned a mold--and we get antibiotics. We could go on and on in this vein, of course.
OK, we aren't all scientists--ordinary people sometimes get cool ideas too, from the safety pin (an idea worth millions) to hooking up a circuit board to a television in a garage and starting Apple Computers. But OK, we aren't all inventors either.
How about the twelve-year-old boy who saw a homeless man and organized a blanket drive that generated several thousand blankets distributed? Anyone could have done that. Anyone didn't--he did.
Granted, you can't just wave your hand and the world is magically better. You can just explain to yourself that the problems aren't solvable, that it wouldn't do any good anyway, that really those problems are somehow good or "God's" plan or Nature's plan or any other of the self-serving nonsense people use to justify doing nothing.
But bit by bit? An improvement here or there? By looking for solutions instead of complaining about problems? With a little patience?
Absolutely. One person can change the world--the only prerequisite is wanting to do so and taking action instead of creating excuses. Maybe start with just changing parts of it.
Writer
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Showing posts with label money. Show all posts
Friday, January 11, 2008
Sunday, July 8, 2007
A Quick Buck
Money is remarkably easy to come by—IF that’s all you want. Trouble is, most people only THINK they want money, when really they value their choice of endeavors and/or their egos far more (as well as a strong tendency to focus on short term planning at the expense—sometimes nearly complete expense—of their long term interests).
I once took a position as Executive Director of a community center. The income had little to do with it, as this was a part time position paying far less than I already earned. I just wanted to get more involved in my community, and I had lots of ideas for pulling together all the talented artists and musicians living in the area who, like me, consistently plied our trades out of town. The Board loved my ideas, and they were particularly interested in using my talents to bring in much needed funding. In particular, they were looking forward to the prospect of winning grants and more donors.
Those funding sources take time, however, and I quickly realized that if we were going to accomplish anything, we needed cash. Now.
I had once managed a nearby New Age book store, and I remembered all the psychics, astrologers, palm readers and such constantly searching for clients. Customers were always asking about where they could get readings—we had bulletin boards filled with reader’s cards/brochures/flyers for this purpose. Roughly once a year, some large promoter would fly through town, rent a hotel ballroom and put on a large psychic fair, giving people a chance to see several readers in one space. Everyone complained about these promoters—but everyone went.
So I put together a brochure/information/application form, and mailed it to all those card addresses. I asked for $50 in booth fees (far less than they usually paid) for a weekend fair. We completely filled the center. I wrote a series of columns for the local paper on who was coming, designed a flyer, and sent press releases to all the papers in an hour’s radius. (The Board warned me that the press always ignored the center, but when I looked through their log, I could see why—their releases were dreadful. I’ve written hundreds of press releases—and every one ran, often exactly as I wrote it). Additionally, we decided to charge $2 admission (again, a fraction of what people usually pay).
We cleared $3,000 that weekend—about four times the amount of their most successful fund raisers before. But if you think the Board members were happy, guess again. “We’re a non-profit—we can’t make too much money, or we’ll be in trouble.” I unsuccessfully pointed out that some non-profits are worth billions of dollars (they just have to spend it again). “How does this make us look?” another asked. Actually, this was the real problem—they felt my success made them look like a bunch of hicks. They decided to redefine my position to a strictly advisory role. I resigned. The staff—one secretary—walked out behind me. The center went back to line dancing.
A restaurant/bar owner in a neighboring town complained to me about her lagging business one day. I again decided to put people’s needs together to create a market, only this time I’d be working for myself. She loved the idea of a psychic fair, and I went to work. Space was more limited, so the booth fees were more--$150, but then many psychics had taken home several hundred dollars at the last fair. Still, some of them baulked, so I hunted down new people to take their place—a tea leaf reader, for example, an aura photographer, and even Penny Parish, a psychic featured on one of the hour long news magazines (I forget which—one of the 20/20 copycats) for her work with the FBI. I had the space for free in exchange for my promotional services. We agreed to a modest admission charge ($3, I think), just to discourage people from entering just to cause trouble.
I pulled out all my promotion experience for this one. I did radio interviews, and set up guest readers for the DJs—always careful to stress that this was purely for entertainment purposes. We mentioned the restaurant and its location a lot. The papers published the features I wrote on Penny Parish. I gave the owner a heads up to be sure she had enough staff on hand to handle much larger crowds than usual, as this was her chance to gain new customers. She agreed to suspend smoking for the weekend.
Not all went well. The owner ignored my advice about staffing; people waited up to an hour for their food, so the overall impression was harmed (and she lost a lot of business as people went elsewhere in town to grab a meal). Some people from a local church decided we were a threat to the morality of the town. I was tipped off by a nice gentleman among the bunch, and offered them space too to keep the peace, but the more militant members rejected the idea. I gave the State People down the street a heads up, just in case. In the end, we just had a lot of annoying people praying right and left—but they paid to come in, so what the hell. I cleared around $2,000.
I could see the market was rapidly declining (and other people noticed what I was doing and figured they could do it too—since spawning a host of very small and very frequent “fairs”), but I gave it one more try in a small city about an hour away. I had to rent a hotel banquet room for this, found one reasonably priced (after a bit of a search), and adjusted booth fees accordingly. Again, this discouraged some psychics—even though some of them had brought home $1200 from the previous fair. Still, we put together a nice if smallish fair. The main problem this time was psychics fighting with each other, accusing one very successful woman of “hooking” customers, while an astrologer argued with me at length because he wanted a hand-written sign added to the lobby to direct people to the fair. Seems their hundreds weren’t enough anymore. I cleared $1,500—and decided enough was enough. Let them go back to complaining they can’t find customers.
This is just one example of creating money—just find people with needs (or perceived needs), find a way to put these people together in some compatible way that rewards them as well, and collect a fee for your services. But short term windfalls like this wouldn’t add up to much of a living. For that, I’d much rather do what I did—build a long term career doing work I love for a healthy if not stellar salary. Not to mention health care and retirement benefits.
Writer
I once took a position as Executive Director of a community center. The income had little to do with it, as this was a part time position paying far less than I already earned. I just wanted to get more involved in my community, and I had lots of ideas for pulling together all the talented artists and musicians living in the area who, like me, consistently plied our trades out of town. The Board loved my ideas, and they were particularly interested in using my talents to bring in much needed funding. In particular, they were looking forward to the prospect of winning grants and more donors.
Those funding sources take time, however, and I quickly realized that if we were going to accomplish anything, we needed cash. Now.
I had once managed a nearby New Age book store, and I remembered all the psychics, astrologers, palm readers and such constantly searching for clients. Customers were always asking about where they could get readings—we had bulletin boards filled with reader’s cards/brochures/flyers for this purpose. Roughly once a year, some large promoter would fly through town, rent a hotel ballroom and put on a large psychic fair, giving people a chance to see several readers in one space. Everyone complained about these promoters—but everyone went.
So I put together a brochure/information/application form, and mailed it to all those card addresses. I asked for $50 in booth fees (far less than they usually paid) for a weekend fair. We completely filled the center. I wrote a series of columns for the local paper on who was coming, designed a flyer, and sent press releases to all the papers in an hour’s radius. (The Board warned me that the press always ignored the center, but when I looked through their log, I could see why—their releases were dreadful. I’ve written hundreds of press releases—and every one ran, often exactly as I wrote it). Additionally, we decided to charge $2 admission (again, a fraction of what people usually pay).
We cleared $3,000 that weekend—about four times the amount of their most successful fund raisers before. But if you think the Board members were happy, guess again. “We’re a non-profit—we can’t make too much money, or we’ll be in trouble.” I unsuccessfully pointed out that some non-profits are worth billions of dollars (they just have to spend it again). “How does this make us look?” another asked. Actually, this was the real problem—they felt my success made them look like a bunch of hicks. They decided to redefine my position to a strictly advisory role. I resigned. The staff—one secretary—walked out behind me. The center went back to line dancing.
A restaurant/bar owner in a neighboring town complained to me about her lagging business one day. I again decided to put people’s needs together to create a market, only this time I’d be working for myself. She loved the idea of a psychic fair, and I went to work. Space was more limited, so the booth fees were more--$150, but then many psychics had taken home several hundred dollars at the last fair. Still, some of them baulked, so I hunted down new people to take their place—a tea leaf reader, for example, an aura photographer, and even Penny Parish, a psychic featured on one of the hour long news magazines (I forget which—one of the 20/20 copycats) for her work with the FBI. I had the space for free in exchange for my promotional services. We agreed to a modest admission charge ($3, I think), just to discourage people from entering just to cause trouble.
I pulled out all my promotion experience for this one. I did radio interviews, and set up guest readers for the DJs—always careful to stress that this was purely for entertainment purposes. We mentioned the restaurant and its location a lot. The papers published the features I wrote on Penny Parish. I gave the owner a heads up to be sure she had enough staff on hand to handle much larger crowds than usual, as this was her chance to gain new customers. She agreed to suspend smoking for the weekend.
Not all went well. The owner ignored my advice about staffing; people waited up to an hour for their food, so the overall impression was harmed (and she lost a lot of business as people went elsewhere in town to grab a meal). Some people from a local church decided we were a threat to the morality of the town. I was tipped off by a nice gentleman among the bunch, and offered them space too to keep the peace, but the more militant members rejected the idea. I gave the State People down the street a heads up, just in case. In the end, we just had a lot of annoying people praying right and left—but they paid to come in, so what the hell. I cleared around $2,000.
I could see the market was rapidly declining (and other people noticed what I was doing and figured they could do it too—since spawning a host of very small and very frequent “fairs”), but I gave it one more try in a small city about an hour away. I had to rent a hotel banquet room for this, found one reasonably priced (after a bit of a search), and adjusted booth fees accordingly. Again, this discouraged some psychics—even though some of them had brought home $1200 from the previous fair. Still, we put together a nice if smallish fair. The main problem this time was psychics fighting with each other, accusing one very successful woman of “hooking” customers, while an astrologer argued with me at length because he wanted a hand-written sign added to the lobby to direct people to the fair. Seems their hundreds weren’t enough anymore. I cleared $1,500—and decided enough was enough. Let them go back to complaining they can’t find customers.
This is just one example of creating money—just find people with needs (or perceived needs), find a way to put these people together in some compatible way that rewards them as well, and collect a fee for your services. But short term windfalls like this wouldn’t add up to much of a living. For that, I’d much rather do what I did—build a long term career doing work I love for a healthy if not stellar salary. Not to mention health care and retirement benefits.
Writer
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Bloggin’ for Nothin’ (and the clicks are free)
A few months ago, I started a blog. Primarily, I wanted a place to write away from the distractions of work place politics, mere reactions to discussion board debates, and generally other people’s expectations about what I should write, all colored by what I’ve written, where I’ve written and so forth. I chose to blog anonymously, without benefit of reputation, resume (or infamy). Only a few of my closest and most trusted friends and colleagues know my blog address (I wanted to feel free to write about anything), so I couldn’t start with the boost of predictable readers. I had to start from scratch.
I didn’t get around to a counter for a week or two, but I received a comment right away—people had found my blog. I certainly wasn’t above promoting my new endeavor, and I added the URL to the tagline of a discussion board I frequent. Success—I received several warm emails from those folks, now regular readers. Still, traffic was irregular, so when I had a few minutes a week or so ago, I explored blog visibility, and came across BlogCatalog. What fun! Suddenly I had gmail from people I’d never met (I’m still working my way through those folks), daily comments from other bloggers, and interesting discussions from nice, intelligent, like-minded people. I was quickly seduced and addicted.
Nothing is perfect, though. MUCH of these discussions focus on “add me and I’ll add you” trades to boost blog ratings on friends lists, neighborhoods, Technorati, StumpleUpon, Digg and so forth. “Link me and I’ll link you.” Well, no real harm—just people cooperating, right?
Such a prevalent practice can only create a backlash. Start with ratings. When I see a highly rated site, I don’t assume it’s a great site—I assume someone’s good at cooking the books. When I find a blogger I like, I don’t check the friends and neighborhoods, as they aren’t necessarily recommendations at all—the blogger may not have even viewed the site. And what about the people who’ve linked to my site or my pieces in good faith—people might well ignore those links as logrolling.
I’ve been assuming, of course, that bloggers want readers, when presumably, many bloggers seek high ratings to maximize ad revenue. Many sites carry so many ads that I’ve stopped reading those blogs, simply because I don’t want to wait for all those ads to load. Indeed, some blogs take so long to load that I gave up before they finished (unread). Yes, I visit some web sites with many ads—but that’s when I’m deliberately shopping, not regularly. Even then, for example, I use Amazon over Barnes and Noble because it loads so much faster. I do read the New York Times online, and yes, it features a number of ads and takes a while to load. However, it’s also rich in content, justifying the wait. A blog updated daily, even an excellent blog, just doesn’t have that same pull.
I’m not looking for clicks—I want steady readers. I want them to enjoy my posts. I want them to bookmark my blog. I want them to recommend this blog to other readers. I want them to visit every day or few. I want them to dig through the archives. I want them to read because it’s a good read, because they’re interested, not just click to trade a favor.
I’m reminded of my music business experience. I recorded three albums, found a distributor, and enjoyed sales from Alaska to Georgia. As the independent market grew, the distributors started selling ad space to artists in their catalogs—and as the market grew more, the ad prices skyrocketed. I did the math, and realized that while I needed ads to maintain sales, at those rates, I’d essentially be buying my own project. I’d be working for nothing (I was also the manufacturer). Since the money was more important than my ego’s desire to distribute my work, I folded the enterprise. The business was no longer about selling independent music to the public—it was about selling ad space to hungry musicians.
Similarly, blog ads are fine, per se, but counterproductive. Blogging for ad revenue is an open market. Readership is spread thin, and only likely to become more so as more people blog. I read very few blogs regularly (only so many hours in the day), preferring quirky, imaginative, well-written blogs with reasonable load times. I never click on the ads.
Plans for easy riches come and go, come and go. From Amway to churning real estate, people are always ready to exploit others’ dreams of waiting wealth, the dreamers rarely stopping to think that if all were that easy, why wouldn’t the dream mongers just engage in more of the same practice themselves? Placing ads on blogs IS a good idea—for Google and other providers of that service. After all—do YOU click on blog ads? Advertisers can still be happy—they get seen, and repetition is rule one in advertising. The service providers collect fees. All those bloggers see all those ads. Success, but make no mistake—bloggers are the customers, not the suppliers.
Certainly I can see ways to successfully commercialize a blog. This would mean writing about products and pastimes that people with money who use the Internet for shopping would regularly purchase (technology comes to mind). You’re a free lance salesperson working for commission—not a great job. I suppose it could work out with genuine interests—a hiker composing reviews of new equipment, for example (although somebody’s got to foot the bill for that equipment)—but if you’re going into sales, this is just not the best approach.
If my purpose were income, I’d fold the blog and start a webzine. Why look for a few clicks? Get readers there and keep them there! You could then pack the site with ads (as long as you paid attention to design with an eye toward load time). Readers could visit multiple times, and with live content, the ‘zine could always stay fresh. Instead of posting ad links, SELL advertising space! Make deals to sell their product for a share of the margin! Use the revenue to hire more writers, web designers and salespeople as required. If you’re going into sales, GO there! Don’t ignore your creative side—create a great publication, and you can sell subscriptions too.
Or, you could start yet another blog telling other bloggers how to make major money by adding ad links and cooking the books. You’ll have lots of customers.
Writer
I didn’t get around to a counter for a week or two, but I received a comment right away—people had found my blog. I certainly wasn’t above promoting my new endeavor, and I added the URL to the tagline of a discussion board I frequent. Success—I received several warm emails from those folks, now regular readers. Still, traffic was irregular, so when I had a few minutes a week or so ago, I explored blog visibility, and came across BlogCatalog. What fun! Suddenly I had gmail from people I’d never met (I’m still working my way through those folks), daily comments from other bloggers, and interesting discussions from nice, intelligent, like-minded people. I was quickly seduced and addicted.
Nothing is perfect, though. MUCH of these discussions focus on “add me and I’ll add you” trades to boost blog ratings on friends lists, neighborhoods, Technorati, StumpleUpon, Digg and so forth. “Link me and I’ll link you.” Well, no real harm—just people cooperating, right?
Such a prevalent practice can only create a backlash. Start with ratings. When I see a highly rated site, I don’t assume it’s a great site—I assume someone’s good at cooking the books. When I find a blogger I like, I don’t check the friends and neighborhoods, as they aren’t necessarily recommendations at all—the blogger may not have even viewed the site. And what about the people who’ve linked to my site or my pieces in good faith—people might well ignore those links as logrolling.
I’ve been assuming, of course, that bloggers want readers, when presumably, many bloggers seek high ratings to maximize ad revenue. Many sites carry so many ads that I’ve stopped reading those blogs, simply because I don’t want to wait for all those ads to load. Indeed, some blogs take so long to load that I gave up before they finished (unread). Yes, I visit some web sites with many ads—but that’s when I’m deliberately shopping, not regularly. Even then, for example, I use Amazon over Barnes and Noble because it loads so much faster. I do read the New York Times online, and yes, it features a number of ads and takes a while to load. However, it’s also rich in content, justifying the wait. A blog updated daily, even an excellent blog, just doesn’t have that same pull.
I’m not looking for clicks—I want steady readers. I want them to enjoy my posts. I want them to bookmark my blog. I want them to recommend this blog to other readers. I want them to visit every day or few. I want them to dig through the archives. I want them to read because it’s a good read, because they’re interested, not just click to trade a favor.
I’m reminded of my music business experience. I recorded three albums, found a distributor, and enjoyed sales from Alaska to Georgia. As the independent market grew, the distributors started selling ad space to artists in their catalogs—and as the market grew more, the ad prices skyrocketed. I did the math, and realized that while I needed ads to maintain sales, at those rates, I’d essentially be buying my own project. I’d be working for nothing (I was also the manufacturer). Since the money was more important than my ego’s desire to distribute my work, I folded the enterprise. The business was no longer about selling independent music to the public—it was about selling ad space to hungry musicians.
Similarly, blog ads are fine, per se, but counterproductive. Blogging for ad revenue is an open market. Readership is spread thin, and only likely to become more so as more people blog. I read very few blogs regularly (only so many hours in the day), preferring quirky, imaginative, well-written blogs with reasonable load times. I never click on the ads.
Plans for easy riches come and go, come and go. From Amway to churning real estate, people are always ready to exploit others’ dreams of waiting wealth, the dreamers rarely stopping to think that if all were that easy, why wouldn’t the dream mongers just engage in more of the same practice themselves? Placing ads on blogs IS a good idea—for Google and other providers of that service. After all—do YOU click on blog ads? Advertisers can still be happy—they get seen, and repetition is rule one in advertising. The service providers collect fees. All those bloggers see all those ads. Success, but make no mistake—bloggers are the customers, not the suppliers.
Certainly I can see ways to successfully commercialize a blog. This would mean writing about products and pastimes that people with money who use the Internet for shopping would regularly purchase (technology comes to mind). You’re a free lance salesperson working for commission—not a great job. I suppose it could work out with genuine interests—a hiker composing reviews of new equipment, for example (although somebody’s got to foot the bill for that equipment)—but if you’re going into sales, this is just not the best approach.
If my purpose were income, I’d fold the blog and start a webzine. Why look for a few clicks? Get readers there and keep them there! You could then pack the site with ads (as long as you paid attention to design with an eye toward load time). Readers could visit multiple times, and with live content, the ‘zine could always stay fresh. Instead of posting ad links, SELL advertising space! Make deals to sell their product for a share of the margin! Use the revenue to hire more writers, web designers and salespeople as required. If you’re going into sales, GO there! Don’t ignore your creative side—create a great publication, and you can sell subscriptions too.
Or, you could start yet another blog telling other bloggers how to make major money by adding ad links and cooking the books. You’ll have lots of customers.
Writer
Friday, April 27, 2007
Igg, Ogg, and the Creation of Taxes
“Igg? I’m tired of all this huntin’ and gatherin’.”
Igg looked at Ogg. “Me too,” he sighed.
“So what say,” Ogg continued, “We raise all these plants and animals ourselves? No more rushin’ around!”
“Now that’s a plan!” agreed Igg. And so agriculture began.
Wisely, Igg and Ogg weren’t quick to quit hunting and gathering, since at first they were largely unsuccessful. They realized eventually that timing played a crucial role.
“Igg? How are we gonna know when exactly to plant?” asked Ogg.
“Hmmm...I know a guy who can read the stars to calculate the seasons...” suggested Igg.
The ancient astronomer got the job, under the title of Priest.
Igg and Ogg prospered, encouraging others to follow their example. All the Priest’s friends got jobs, creating organized religion.
One day, Igg and Ogg toured their plantation along the riverbank and noticed a disturbing trend--less and less water reached their crops. Taking a walk upstream, they soon saw why: many new converts to agriculture were diverting the river’s water to irrigate their crops. When questioned, these new farmers invariably replied, “We have to make a living too!”
On the way back downstream, Igg and Ogg talked to several other farmers who also complained about the dwindling water supply. Consequently, Igg and Ogg organized a meeting of all the riverside crop growers. After considerable debate, the farming community realized that water rights must be controlled by a central authority, thus creating law, government, and bureaucracy. Civilization was born.
The new village thrived at first, but some of the farmers failed to honor the water rights agreements. Igg and Ogg called another meeting, and soon enforcement of the law fell to the newly created police force. Further, to ensure the fairness of police enforcement, a new judicial system and penal code arose. The village rejoiced.
Unfortunately, so did the nomads in the mountains above the village. “Look!” they advised each other, “These people work all year and create all this food in one place, ready for the taking! Mount your horses!” And so they did, in a devastating raid. War had entered the world.
The village did not rejoice. “All our hard work! Our families will starve! We must protect ourselves!” Another village meeting instituted an army.
But Igg and Ogg had an additional concern. “The village has priests and governors and legislators and police and justices and lawyers and soldiers and commanders,” explained Igg, “But the village needs these people to commit so much time to their professions that they can no longer realistically take the time to raise their own food.” After a long silence, Ogg suggested,” Suppose each farmer raises a little more than needed for mere self-sufficiency? Then, the surplus could go to the professionals necessary for the security of the village.” Long debate followed, but necessity instituted the plan. Taxes had entered the world. And to help keep tax records, mathematics and writing soon followed.
Life was wonderful thereafter. People invented leisure time and explored human existence by creating and practicing various arts and sciences. People also continued to learn to work together, specializing in various trades, providing new products and professional services. Education strove to ensure and expand village life, thought, and culture. But, unfortunately, greed was not limited to the mountain nomads.
“It’s YOUR money!” proclaimed Ugg in his bid for village government. “Every year since this village started, more and more of your hard earned money goes toward supporting Big Government!”
Igg listened, confused. “But those taxes pay for the services necessary to run this village,” he countered.
“Wasteful spending! Tax and spend! Tax and spend!” continued Ugg.
“Shouldn’t we then trim the waste, if that’s so, rather than cut revenue?” asked Igg.
“You see,” explained the Priest, “Cutting taxes will actually increase government revenue.”
“So, if instead of tithing,” retorted Igg, “People only gave five percent, church revenue would increase?” The Priest kept quiet.
“Cutting taxes stimulates the economy!” shouted Ugg. “It creates jobs!”
“Given certain circumstances, I suppose that’s theoretically possible,” mused Igg, “But such a blanket proposition makes several unsupported assumptions. For example, won’t trimming spending also cost jobs? And doesn’t government spending ALSO enter the economy?”
Ogg had doubts too. “Cutting taxes means cutting services,” he explained, “Services we instituted with good reason. Important, necessary services.”
Ugg didn’t seem to hear. “This slow economy means we MUST cut taxes NOW! The more cuts, the more the stimulus! And private industry in this great village of ours can best provide services to our wonderful people!”
Igg turned to Ogg. “Does he mean that cutting all taxes would best benefit the village?”
Ogg considered. “Well...if not by taxes, the village would need to exploit natural resources, or consistently plunder other villages, or institute slaves to produce excess revenue.”
“And privatizing government services,” added Igg, “Would mean that police, justice, armed forces and so forth would only be for hire. Further, the large landowners would benefit most from lower taxes, at least in the short run, because only those families could afford education. Our village’s professional talents would atrophy.”
Ugg’s enthusiasm had now attracted quite an audience, drawn by promises of invading the mountains to conquer the nomads, cutting the forests to increase village resources, and asking all citizens to sacrifice for the good of the village in order to make tax cuts possible and to eliminate government interference in their affairs. Nationalism was born.
Igg and Ogg looked at each other once more, then turned and walked toward the forest, while it would still be possible to hunt and gather.
Writer
Igg looked at Ogg. “Me too,” he sighed.
“So what say,” Ogg continued, “We raise all these plants and animals ourselves? No more rushin’ around!”
“Now that’s a plan!” agreed Igg. And so agriculture began.
Wisely, Igg and Ogg weren’t quick to quit hunting and gathering, since at first they were largely unsuccessful. They realized eventually that timing played a crucial role.
“Igg? How are we gonna know when exactly to plant?” asked Ogg.
“Hmmm...I know a guy who can read the stars to calculate the seasons...” suggested Igg.
The ancient astronomer got the job, under the title of Priest.
Igg and Ogg prospered, encouraging others to follow their example. All the Priest’s friends got jobs, creating organized religion.
One day, Igg and Ogg toured their plantation along the riverbank and noticed a disturbing trend--less and less water reached their crops. Taking a walk upstream, they soon saw why: many new converts to agriculture were diverting the river’s water to irrigate their crops. When questioned, these new farmers invariably replied, “We have to make a living too!”
On the way back downstream, Igg and Ogg talked to several other farmers who also complained about the dwindling water supply. Consequently, Igg and Ogg organized a meeting of all the riverside crop growers. After considerable debate, the farming community realized that water rights must be controlled by a central authority, thus creating law, government, and bureaucracy. Civilization was born.
The new village thrived at first, but some of the farmers failed to honor the water rights agreements. Igg and Ogg called another meeting, and soon enforcement of the law fell to the newly created police force. Further, to ensure the fairness of police enforcement, a new judicial system and penal code arose. The village rejoiced.
Unfortunately, so did the nomads in the mountains above the village. “Look!” they advised each other, “These people work all year and create all this food in one place, ready for the taking! Mount your horses!” And so they did, in a devastating raid. War had entered the world.
The village did not rejoice. “All our hard work! Our families will starve! We must protect ourselves!” Another village meeting instituted an army.
But Igg and Ogg had an additional concern. “The village has priests and governors and legislators and police and justices and lawyers and soldiers and commanders,” explained Igg, “But the village needs these people to commit so much time to their professions that they can no longer realistically take the time to raise their own food.” After a long silence, Ogg suggested,” Suppose each farmer raises a little more than needed for mere self-sufficiency? Then, the surplus could go to the professionals necessary for the security of the village.” Long debate followed, but necessity instituted the plan. Taxes had entered the world. And to help keep tax records, mathematics and writing soon followed.
Life was wonderful thereafter. People invented leisure time and explored human existence by creating and practicing various arts and sciences. People also continued to learn to work together, specializing in various trades, providing new products and professional services. Education strove to ensure and expand village life, thought, and culture. But, unfortunately, greed was not limited to the mountain nomads.
“It’s YOUR money!” proclaimed Ugg in his bid for village government. “Every year since this village started, more and more of your hard earned money goes toward supporting Big Government!”
Igg listened, confused. “But those taxes pay for the services necessary to run this village,” he countered.
“Wasteful spending! Tax and spend! Tax and spend!” continued Ugg.
“Shouldn’t we then trim the waste, if that’s so, rather than cut revenue?” asked Igg.
“You see,” explained the Priest, “Cutting taxes will actually increase government revenue.”
“So, if instead of tithing,” retorted Igg, “People only gave five percent, church revenue would increase?” The Priest kept quiet.
“Cutting taxes stimulates the economy!” shouted Ugg. “It creates jobs!”
“Given certain circumstances, I suppose that’s theoretically possible,” mused Igg, “But such a blanket proposition makes several unsupported assumptions. For example, won’t trimming spending also cost jobs? And doesn’t government spending ALSO enter the economy?”
Ogg had doubts too. “Cutting taxes means cutting services,” he explained, “Services we instituted with good reason. Important, necessary services.”
Ugg didn’t seem to hear. “This slow economy means we MUST cut taxes NOW! The more cuts, the more the stimulus! And private industry in this great village of ours can best provide services to our wonderful people!”
Igg turned to Ogg. “Does he mean that cutting all taxes would best benefit the village?”
Ogg considered. “Well...if not by taxes, the village would need to exploit natural resources, or consistently plunder other villages, or institute slaves to produce excess revenue.”
“And privatizing government services,” added Igg, “Would mean that police, justice, armed forces and so forth would only be for hire. Further, the large landowners would benefit most from lower taxes, at least in the short run, because only those families could afford education. Our village’s professional talents would atrophy.”
Ugg’s enthusiasm had now attracted quite an audience, drawn by promises of invading the mountains to conquer the nomads, cutting the forests to increase village resources, and asking all citizens to sacrifice for the good of the village in order to make tax cuts possible and to eliminate government interference in their affairs. Nationalism was born.
Igg and Ogg looked at each other once more, then turned and walked toward the forest, while it would still be possible to hunt and gather.
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