Sunday, September 26, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
I would go into it myself, but I would just be plagiarizing Bastiat, Ce qu'on voit et ce qu'on ne voit pas.
The parable describes a shopkeeper whose window is broken by his young son, and who has to pay for a glazier fixing his window. It conveys some thoughts on economy and money circulation. Bastiat's original parable of the broken window went like this:
Have you ever witnessed the anger of the good shopkeeper, James Goodfellow, when his careless son happened to break a pane of glass? If you have been present at such a scene, you will most assuredly bear witness to the fact that every one of the spectators, were there even thirty of them, by common consent apparently, offered the unfortunate owner this invariable consolation—"It is an ill wind that blows nobody good. Everybody must live, and what would become of the glaziers if panes of glass were never broken?"
Now, this form of condolence contains an entire theory, which it will be well to show up in this simple case, seeing that it is precisely the same as that which, unhappily, regulates the greater part of our economical institutions.
Suppose it cost six francs to repair the damage, and you say that the accident brings six francs to the glazier's trade—that it encourages that trade to the amount of six francs—I grant it; I have not a word to say against it; you reason justly. The glazier comes, performs his task, receives his six francs, rubs his hands, and, in his heart, blesses the careless child. All this is that which is seen.
But if, on the other hand, you come to the conclusion, as is too often the case, that it is a good thing to break windows, that it causes money to circulate, and that the encouragement of industry in general will be the result of it, you will oblige me to call out, "Stop there! Your theory is confined to that which is seen; it takes no account of that which is not seen."
It is not seen that as our shopkeeper has spent six francs upon one thing, he cannot spend them upon another. It is not seen that if he had not had a window to replace, he would, perhaps, have replaced his old shoes, or added another book to his library. In short, he would have employed his six francs in some way, which this accident has prevented.
The fallacy of the onlookers' argument is that they considered only the benefits of purchasing a new window, but they ignored the cost to the shopkeeper. As the shopkeeper was forced to spend his money on a new window, he could not spend it on something else; this is called an opportunity cost. For example, the shopkeeper might have preferred to spend the money on bread and shoes for himself (thus enriching the baker and cobbler), but now cannot because he must fix his window.
Thus, the child did not bring any net benefit to the town. Instead, he made the town poorer by at least the value of one window, if not more. His actions benefited the glazier, but at the expense not only of the shopkeeper, but the baker or the cobbler as well. Moreover, the benefit to the glazier is relatively small, because most of what he charges is to compensate him for his tedious and strenuous labour, as well as the materials he uses.
Friday, September 24, 2010
I have noticed (anecdotal observation) that the more mixed someone is (genotypically) the less likely they are to have fetish-strength preferences for certain racial types.
Is it possible that in groups that have had limited variety in genotype, there is a functional subconscious program that kicks in and attracts us to a gene-pool that is markedly different from our own?
Is it possible that something that we assume is so fundamentally essential is actually totally worthless? I think so.
The first argument I usually encounter when I broach the subject is the hygiene argument. This may have been a valid argument when there may have been weeks of gold prospecting between laundering of one's Levi's (although, at that point, how clean could your undies really be?). Also, in an age where we wash out kitchen towels between hand-dryings, how much difference can a thin layer of poorly constructed cotton make?