Monday, January 31, 2011

Monopolizing

I may got out on a limb and make a fool of myself in a moment, but please indulge me, and then let me know if I'm on to something or have no idea what I'm talking about.

The new semester is starting this week, and it's a change from the last month and a half for me.  I haven't had any classes for a while, since what I wanted to take during Intercession was canceled, so it might take a bit to get back into the swing of things.  We did have Earl Lectures this past week, so that was a nice way to work up to more scholarly work for myself again.  Also, we had the President's State of the Union speech last Tuesday, which I found very inspiring while not full of concrete ideas.  Also, there was this, which made me want to throw things at the television:


Yeah, in order to not fly off on a rant too much, I'll just say this.  Please, can we elect folks that might have the  common sense to know what they are talking about, and if not, then not talk about it?  I was all kinds of fired up about this one.

Yet, through all this, the thing foremost on my mind was Monopoly.  Yes, the game I'm exceptionally good at made a mad return through the last few weeks on the coffee table and the Wii.  I'm trying to dissect why I'm good at Monopoly, why I've always been good at Monopoly, why people bug out in the middle of a game by selling all their property for a dollar, or refuse to play me any more in the first place.  My basic idea currently is that I'm a master trader that takes a lot of risks and gets a little luck.  But I'm sure it's more complicated than that.

As I listened to the Earl Lectures last week, I still had Monopoly on the brain.  Perhaps my approach to economics is different than some at seminary due to my training as an Assistant Manager at Walmart.  I'm groovy on the idea of paying wages equal to the work performed, with a higher minimum wage (really, a living wage).  I'm groovy on the idea that people should get benefits from their place of employment at part of their compensation package.  I'm groovy on taxes to pay for services from the government not provided by business, services that people may otherwise be unable to afford.  I'm ultra-groovy on health care quality, the same great system provided by the government and available to everyone.  I love the idea of social security to help those in old age manage to make ends meet when they otherwise are unable to work.

But, while I'm not economist, I also understand business is business.  The wages, the taxes, the benefits, the services need to come from somewhere.  A business needs to have a customer base to serve, and income to pay for goods and/or services for the customer base, and profit to make the venture worthwhile.  In our economy, without a decent profit, there's no incentive to have the business, let alone ability to make the business run.  Where do we draw the line, then?  Sure, we want the business to supply the proper compensation to it's workers, but if we overextend that compensation, there is no compensation because the business has failed.  While this is perhaps more applicable to smaller businesses, just look at the big car companies that required a government bailout.  When the economy turned south, and there wasn't enough money rolling in from sales, the commitment to the workers became overwhelming, and without government assistance, there would have been catastrophe.  I endorse unions that want to get a better slice of the pie for the workers, or, in some instances, even basic worker rights, but I have a hard time supporting a union fighting for worker rights that lead to the destruction of the company.

At the same time, money is out there.  Profits are growing for the large companies in the world, as are CEO compensation packages, while the workers at the bottom of the chain are not getting any better.  The current solution in place is to take these much higher earners to help the government fill in the gaps for the less compensated workers.  Conservatives fight against this, with the general argument going something like, "I worked hard for this money, it's what I earned, why should I be forced to give it to someone else?"

And this is where Monopoly really started to enter my brain again.  Let me give you a basic example of the economy, as I see it, using Monopoly.  I'll make some assumptions and generalizations here, but, like I said, it's basic.  So we start life, and somewhere along the way we start making choices.  Some of us make more money than others, but we get to pick how we spend it, and where we make the sacrifices.  Some of us make purchases that end up going nowhere (Baltic Ave?), some of us get a chance to make money that while providing for the essentials, doesn't give us opportunity to get going somewhere (the railroads?), some get to take their money and turn it into more through investment in the right place at the right time (the orange monopoly with some houses?), and some get out and out luxury from their investment income (Boardwalk and Park Place, with hotels?).  We all have similar rules to live by, we all have a basic income, but some get more than others.  What I find interesting about this model is that it isn't sustainable.  Once someone gets a monopoly, and a higher income through development, we all know the game is going to end soon.  The person with more money, and a way to turn that money into more money, is the winner.  It will happen very quickly if there is no equal competitor, but there's more equal a chance of winning for the players if more have monopolies at the same time.

The game ends when there is one player left after all the rest have debt that exceeds their assets.  That's when we declare a winner and pick up the pieces people have scattered in (sometimes) mock anger from their loss. Happy day for playing a game!  But in the real world, the game ends there too if things aren't done to maintain balance.  I wonder if the winner might not realize they are out of luck in this scenario too.  For, if the rich are given all the money, then who pays for hotel stay to recoup the investment cost?  In other words, if the rich are the ones with the money, how do they increase that income if there are no customers left to purchase the goods/services offered because you already have all of their money?

Wouldn't it be prudent, then, to extend the life of the system, to ensure that the workers, the ones that are the beneficiary of the success of the company through a wage paid for a job performed, are able to continue to pay for the goods/services offered by the company, as well as others?

I remember studying trickle-down economics in high school and college and not understanding.  I've heard the argument from conservatives that they don't trust the government to make the choices.  They say that businesses, guided by the principles of capitalism, are the best judge of what is the right thing to do with the money.

I've seen in the last ten years a Congress enact legislation to make that happen, and I've seen pay scales for high-level employees  (especially CEOs) skyrocket, and I've seen a system crash to almost unprecedented levels that required government intervention to stay afloat.  I've seen companies grow, potholes grow, and an education gap grow, as we collect less taxes to stimulate private spending while ignoring investing in the things that are for the common good.  So I was inspired by President Obama's dedication to increasing infrastructure spending.  We all benefit from increased transportation and communication capabilities, and the jobs that result from that spending.

Yes, I've heard the argument that companies need less taxes and more profit in order for the economy to run successfully.  I've heard the argument that people don't trust the government to spend our money.  Frankly, I don't trust business to make those choice, because they haven't.  At the end of the day, the business is just like the owner of Boardwalk and Park Place.  They know they have it good, but they want to be the best.  So they spend money in places that work for them, not for the common good.  The rest of us are left to hope we don't fall into bad luck through our roll of the dice.  And so we get left behind, and as we are left behind, the rich lose out as well, because we can't afford to pay for their goods/services offered.  We can't afford the rent.  The game is over for all of us.

How do we keep the game going?  By giving the less fortunate more opportunity.  What kind of game would we be playing if everyone had a monopoly, and everyone had a hotel, and we all could pick which hotel we wanted to stay at without worrying about if we had enough money to pay for it.  I don't think that'd be a very fun game (I have a pretty competitive spirit!), but I do think that would serve well as a life model.  All it comes down to is the right implementation, which is an argument for another day.

In the meantime, we can all be a little more trusting of each other, and a little more loving with each other.  We  can all give each other a helping hand in times of need.  We can invite a friend over for a meal, a movie, a chat, or a game.  We can find something to laugh at, offer a shoulder to cry on, or just find a hand to hold when we need it most.  We can create connections that transcend money and rely on community.  We can be to each other the best we would want for ourselves.  We don't need taxes for that, and we don't need business for that.  We just need each other.

Friday, January 14, 2011

We can do better, we will do better, and we must do better.

Sometimes, I am surprised by the perspective I take on certain issues.  When would I ever expect myself to be in the position of defending Sarah Palin?  Sometimes, the impossible happens.  In the biz, we might call that a miracle.  Personally, I consider it an appeal to reason.  Common sense seems to be missing in our world all too often.

I, like so many across the country and around, was appalled by the events in Tuscon this week.  The way I see it, every time a life is cut short by an act of violence or hate is an unspeakable tragedy.  Certainly this applies to our members of Congress.  It applies to innocent bystanders.  It applies to the high profile cases in suburbia and the invisible residents of the inner cities.  Unfortunately, not everyone is afforded the same press coverage.

In today's world, that's what it's all about.  Who can be the first with the story?  Who has the better opinion?  Who can win the day by saying not the right thing, but the most repercussive?  It's really just a well-funded pissing contest, seeing how can talk louder for longer without actually saying anything of any worth.  In the process, throwing in an insult of seven for good measure has become the norm.

I was dismayed by the shootings in Arizona, but further dismayed at the immediate conjecture that the political atmosphere was the fault.  I suppose it is human nature to assign blame for the things that go wrong in our lives, and the faster, the better.  Before all the facts were in, it was decided to blame an icon on Sarah Palin's website, as opposed to the actual mental illness of the shooter.  So many jumped on the bandwagon so quickly, citing her as the figurehead of an unnamed mass of maniacs, indicting her in the court of public opinion, before we knew who lived and who died.

And it continues.  My Facebook feed is filled with retorts from some of my friends, who might otherwise been seen as compassionate, piling on the vitriol with their own, lashing out at Sarah Palin's response to those who would condemn her with their own hate-inducing language and attitudes.  I'll grant her response was not the most graceful (to put it all too lightly), but it seemed so highly ironic that those who blamed in her type of "fear mongering" in the immediate aftermath of the shooting would be so quick to do the same to her.

If we think the political atmosphere is too toxic, if we feel that the current level of rhetoric is out of this world crazy, then how can we expect to fix it by continuing the cycle?  Are we not, as seminarians, obligated to find the middle ground?  Are we not here to make peace with those who disagree with us?  What are we willing to sacrifice in good faith, as we expect them to do the same?

How can I, in good conscience, claim to represent a righteous path if my words and actions are not righteous?  How can I expect those I want to lead to follow me if I do not lead by example?

Rev. Fred Phelps, of Westboro Baptist Church infamy, has consistently acted in a way I consider reprehensible pretty much every day for as long as I can remember.  Here, again, he made plans to picket the funeral of an innocent 9-year-old girl, attempting to assign blame of his own (against the gays of the world), and celebrating the actions of, in his eyes, a just God.  I don't think there is any way my position could be more opposite of his.  I think that, while he speaks as though divinely inspired, he cannot, in any way, represent a God so often thought of as pure love while spouting his ideas so deeply rooted in hate.  And yet...he is a member of our society, free to vocalize his views.  We don't have to agree with him at all.  But the moment we try to stifle his speech, how can we be sure ours isn't next?

So instead, there are so many that would call him names.  Hate begets hate, no question in that.  I don't think i have the capacity to hate, try as I might.  All I can offer is love; it's up to him to do the rest.  I don't ever think he will, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.  For I may not reach him, but I may reach another, and if in doing say I change one heart from hate to love, then it is all worth it.

If we are the leaders of the spiritual future, if we are to be the examples for those that would follow in faith, let our message be of love, and always of love.  Let us remember that our actions speak louder than our words, and our words reveal what is truly in our hearts.  Let us go forth and forgive those that hate so that they may know love, and let us love those we have forgiven, so that we can forge a new future of peace.

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Plane Rides and Presidents

I've been thinking a lot about plane rides these past few weeks.  I've taken friends to the airport, picked up others, joked about the fun new security procedures with others, and seen others take plane rides on television.   It's been plane-tastic.  Except for the part when I get to take a plane ride.

You know what I like about plane rides?  It's forced thinking time.  As a matter of fact, that's how it is whenever I get to be a passenger.  Before Christmas, I had the opportunity to take public transit back up to Santa Rosa to see friends, and I quite enjoyed the experience.  I think the key was the solitude.  I had books, magazines, and my iPhone with me, yet I chose to spend my time staring out the window at the passing hillsides and cloud cover.

I love driving.  I enjoy taking control of the car and guiding it...anywhere.  Any time, any weather, I'm there.  I also have a hard time trusting most people's driving skills, so I'd just as soon do it myself.  While I get great pleasure from driving, I also miss out.  After all, focusing on the road and the surrounding cars means not focusing on the scenery.

So when I had the chance to take in the scenery, I took it.  When I get on the plane, it's the same thing.  Sure, I have my music to listen to, but there's just something to sitting and staring out a window while the miles roll by.

So while my friends have made their sojourns this winter, I have remained at home for the most part.  But my reflection wasn't limited by my lack of travel (bus ride to Santa Rosa notwithstanding).  Indeed, I've seen now more than four seasons of The West Wing in the the past two weeks, and within the episodes I've found stories that resonated in my own life: arguments over what the Bible says on gay people, a strain with a father's Alzheimer's disease, and the President's struggles with Multiple Sclerosis.  And, of course, plane travel.

I'm thinking about the future as I reflect on the episodes I'm watching.  I know I'm onto something, but the idea is still a germ of a kernel in my head, waiting for the right moment to pop.  It'll happen, and I'm sure my classes for the coming intercession and semester will help with that.  I'm sure that I'll find my field placement for next year to expand and solidify, and a job beyond seminary in order to implement.  I can't tell you what any of it is yet, because I don't know.  But it's coming, and I'll be ready for it.

Our popular culture is what we make it to be.  We are it, but more importantly, it is us.  There's something there, and I'm going to find it.