Grape Popsicles and Humanity's Fundamental Perception of Wealth
I have memories, like most Americans, of times in my life where I would sit around for what seemed like hours and eat popsicles. Perhaps after a soccer game, with grass stained knees and dirty cleats, we'd indulge in our various flavors; ranging from cerise cherry to mauve grape to malachite lime, there seemed a flavor for every color ever conceived, and everyone seemed to have a favorite. These popsicles quickly evolved into a brand-name behemoth, and promotional popsicles began appearing for all sorts of purposes. From feature films to television shows, seemingly every pop-culture icon had their own fruit-flavored treat.
Popsicles, however, are simply one example of an ?artificialization? trend affecting the post-industrial world. In our culture's desire to improve everything we can, even at the expense of nature or real practicality, we do our best to use as many artificial substitutes as possible: artificial sweeteners, artificial fabrics, even artificial wood. The list of replacements continues almost indefinitely, and the benefits are often, in the long term, negligible at best.
Take, for example, the artificial smoke-flavoring designed to be spread on meat before barbecuing. I'm sure that such a product represents a sizable industry, which therefore presents an obvious capitalist appeal, but what would inspire someone to invent a product? When the natural solution, although perhaps less flavorful, is much more economical and convenient, what would drive someone to invent this flavoring, and why do so many people purchase it?
The inner workings of the calculus of supply and demand are to blame for such a phenomenon; with such low transportation fees, if even a minuscule group of the population desires an eccentric good, a new business opportunity will arise and competition will fight over this niche ? what, a century ago, would be absurd, is now so commonplace and commercialize that entire add campaigns promise that their product has ?the most realistic smoky flavor? or contains ?an extra two ounces ? for value over the competition.? Thus, every need, however trivial, is supplied by the creation of more and more workers and businesspeople, who, once again, demand more and more products.
Although this cycle appears to be beneficial, supplying everyone with all of their needs, it suffers from a critical flaw ? it assumes an infinite amount of natural resources with which to meet those needs. While this might have been effective in the earlier days of capitalism, it's certainly not effective now. In fact, such a supply-and-demand strategy is closely paired with the implications of Fredrick Jackson Turner's frontier thesis, which explains the sudden and tremendous growth of America, especially in terms of Europe ? in the earlier days of American history, there were always more minerals, more natural resources, or more land, all of which pushed settlers westward and spawned expansionist ideals such as ?Manifest Destiny.? Today, perhaps because this frontier mentality hasn't yet been completely extinguished, America suffers more than smaller European countries who have never really had a frontier. This complete disregard for the finite nature of natural resources has led humanity, and especially America, to its current environmental crisis.
However, capitalism isn't to blame, nor is the concept of supply and demand economics. The problem simply lies in our perception of costs and benefits. We still operate under a now ineffective system of simple monetary costs and benefits and continue to disregard the actual cost of gathering the resources; when a businessman considers the cost of cutting lumber to produce newspaper or cardboard, he thinks not in terms of the long-term effects to the environment, but in the long term effects on his wallet.
Nor should we blame him; simple self-preservation, the most basic human instinct, dictates his thought ? because, just as he thinks of business costs in terms of dollars, he must think of survival in terms of dollars. In stark contrast to our hunter-gatherer days, when our very sustenance depended on our care of our environment, we're now disregarding the environment in favor of monetary gain ? not because we want to, but because we depend on the dollar for sustenance as much as our predecessors depended on the deer.
Thus, the problem lies not with the greedy business people, nor with the theory of our economy. The problem lies in our fundamental perception of wealth and personal security. Such a problem isn't easy to solve ? but in some way, our perception of wealth must change into one based on an arbitrary standard to one based on the actual costs of producing goods. This is why our environmental problems cannot be solved; we're attempting to deal with environmental issues with tools based on an arbitrary standard that has nothing to do with the environment ? we're trying to put a square peg in a round hole, and no matter how much we grease it with money, technological improvement, or shock tactics, we can't hope for more than a partial fit.
And yet, humanity marches on in our quest for the the impossible American dream ? mindless construction of supposedly superior alternatives to natural productions. The original popsicle, of course, is the ice-tray filled up with lemonade and frozen, perhaps with toothpicks or a protective layer of plastic wrap. Although these home-made popsicles are flimsy, lack flavor, and are much more difficult to mass-produce, there's something substantial about them. Although the commercialized Popsicle, neon in hue and saturated with artificial flavor, would initially seem superior in every way, upon closer inspection it's evidently unreal and ethereal in comparison.
Cliffs:
Answer the @!#)* poll.
I have memories, like most Americans, of times in my life where I would sit around for what seemed like hours and eat popsicles. Perhaps after a soccer game, with grass stained knees and dirty cleats, we'd indulge in our various flavors; ranging from cerise cherry to mauve grape to malachite lime, there seemed a flavor for every color ever conceived, and everyone seemed to have a favorite. These popsicles quickly evolved into a brand-name behemoth, and promotional popsicles began appearing for all sorts of purposes. From feature films to television shows, seemingly every pop-culture icon had their own fruit-flavored treat.
Popsicles, however, are simply one example of an ?artificialization? trend affecting the post-industrial world. In our culture's desire to improve everything we can, even at the expense of nature or real practicality, we do our best to use as many artificial substitutes as possible: artificial sweeteners, artificial fabrics, even artificial wood. The list of replacements continues almost indefinitely, and the benefits are often, in the long term, negligible at best.
Take, for example, the artificial smoke-flavoring designed to be spread on meat before barbecuing. I'm sure that such a product represents a sizable industry, which therefore presents an obvious capitalist appeal, but what would inspire someone to invent a product? When the natural solution, although perhaps less flavorful, is much more economical and convenient, what would drive someone to invent this flavoring, and why do so many people purchase it?
The inner workings of the calculus of supply and demand are to blame for such a phenomenon; with such low transportation fees, if even a minuscule group of the population desires an eccentric good, a new business opportunity will arise and competition will fight over this niche ? what, a century ago, would be absurd, is now so commonplace and commercialize that entire add campaigns promise that their product has ?the most realistic smoky flavor? or contains ?an extra two ounces ? for value over the competition.? Thus, every need, however trivial, is supplied by the creation of more and more workers and businesspeople, who, once again, demand more and more products.
Although this cycle appears to be beneficial, supplying everyone with all of their needs, it suffers from a critical flaw ? it assumes an infinite amount of natural resources with which to meet those needs. While this might have been effective in the earlier days of capitalism, it's certainly not effective now. In fact, such a supply-and-demand strategy is closely paired with the implications of Fredrick Jackson Turner's frontier thesis, which explains the sudden and tremendous growth of America, especially in terms of Europe ? in the earlier days of American history, there were always more minerals, more natural resources, or more land, all of which pushed settlers westward and spawned expansionist ideals such as ?Manifest Destiny.? Today, perhaps because this frontier mentality hasn't yet been completely extinguished, America suffers more than smaller European countries who have never really had a frontier. This complete disregard for the finite nature of natural resources has led humanity, and especially America, to its current environmental crisis.
However, capitalism isn't to blame, nor is the concept of supply and demand economics. The problem simply lies in our perception of costs and benefits. We still operate under a now ineffective system of simple monetary costs and benefits and continue to disregard the actual cost of gathering the resources; when a businessman considers the cost of cutting lumber to produce newspaper or cardboard, he thinks not in terms of the long-term effects to the environment, but in the long term effects on his wallet.
Nor should we blame him; simple self-preservation, the most basic human instinct, dictates his thought ? because, just as he thinks of business costs in terms of dollars, he must think of survival in terms of dollars. In stark contrast to our hunter-gatherer days, when our very sustenance depended on our care of our environment, we're now disregarding the environment in favor of monetary gain ? not because we want to, but because we depend on the dollar for sustenance as much as our predecessors depended on the deer.
Thus, the problem lies not with the greedy business people, nor with the theory of our economy. The problem lies in our fundamental perception of wealth and personal security. Such a problem isn't easy to solve ? but in some way, our perception of wealth must change into one based on an arbitrary standard to one based on the actual costs of producing goods. This is why our environmental problems cannot be solved; we're attempting to deal with environmental issues with tools based on an arbitrary standard that has nothing to do with the environment ? we're trying to put a square peg in a round hole, and no matter how much we grease it with money, technological improvement, or shock tactics, we can't hope for more than a partial fit.
And yet, humanity marches on in our quest for the the impossible American dream ? mindless construction of supposedly superior alternatives to natural productions. The original popsicle, of course, is the ice-tray filled up with lemonade and frozen, perhaps with toothpicks or a protective layer of plastic wrap. Although these home-made popsicles are flimsy, lack flavor, and are much more difficult to mass-produce, there's something substantial about them. Although the commercialized Popsicle, neon in hue and saturated with artificial flavor, would initially seem superior in every way, upon closer inspection it's evidently unreal and ethereal in comparison.
Cliffs:
Answer the @!#)* poll.
