I admit this freely: I like drinking things just above
freezing. I like my water to numb
the nerves in my mouth and make talking all but impossible. I don’t know why this is, or what
possible long term side effects it will have, but I do know that it requires a
simple but often overlooked household staple: ice cubes. Yes, the simple ice cube. It’s a simple
variation of one of the most abundant substances in the world: water. And yet
from this, we can garner some fundamental economic truths: stages of production,
the value of savings, the act of consumption, demand, supply, and others. Here,
I will focus primarily on the merits of savings and the act of consumption, but
will touch briefly on the idea behind ice cube production.
For those of you always blessed with having automatic
icemakers, don’t fret. I will
explain the process to manually
create ice cubes with gripping detail.
It will be enough for you to understand the process, even if you can’t
appreciate it. For the rest of us, we understand that in order to have ice
cubes, when you want them, requires foresight.
One cannot simply believe that ice cubes will replicate in the freezer, into
perpetuity, without some sort of initiative of the demander.
So what do we do? We dutifully fill those plastic trays under
the faucet, and as steadily as possible march them to the freezer and set them
inside. We close the door, open it
immediately and poof! Ice is created,
right? Of course not. Ice takes time. It’s not something we create instantly using household
appliances. The lesson: every act
of production requires a period of time. You must know what you’re going to
make, and then plan accordingly. Production requires foresight and time. (It
requires other things as well, but the sake of this argument, we’ll leave those
alone).
Now, you wait the appropriate amount of time, open the
freezer, and voila, ice is waiting for your use. You may do with it what you will. Chock that glass full of it. Make your brain freeze.
But do you? When you make ice for yourself, do you always
take everything you make and use it immediately? Sometimes yes, but often
no. The reason? You understand
once that ice is gone; you’ll have to create more. Perhaps you don’t want to
use all of the ice. (Here we’re dealing with another property of economics: the
law of diminishing marginal returns. No matter how much ice you cram into a glass, at a certain
point, adding more cubes will not make the water any colder.) If you’re
ambitious and a heavy ice user, you’ll make more as soon as the other batch is
complete. You anticipate needing more sometime in the future. This is another
important facet of economics: the act of saving.
If you don’t use all of your ice cubes today, you’ll still
have some left for tomorrow. Who
knows, you might want a frosty lemonade tomorrow. Or a cube to cool down your
coffee. Or ice to make a frozen margarita. The future is unknown, and you have
limited ability to judge what you might want or need. But why save? Couldn’t
you just make ice as needed? Why bother taking the time now to create more than
you need?
Imagine the other side of this: do you ever make just one
ice cube? Would you ever anticipate wanting to drink an iced water tomorrow, and
make a single cube today? Why wouldn’t you? Maybe you understand that your time
has certain priorities, and filling up your waking hours creating and then
consuming one cube becomes a little tedious.
So naturally, you fill your trays, let them freeze and then consume them at your leisure. You do
this, without prompting. You
always fill the trays completely with water because… well it just makes sense,
doesn’t it? There is no mandate that you keep your freezer stocked with
ice. Sometimes you must go
without. Sometimes you make too
much and take extra time to dispose of them. Sometimes something in your freezer contaminates the taste
of the tray. Sometimes you urgently need more than you can make, and go
purchase it.
“So,” you ask the author, “what the heck does this have to
do with anything?” The answer? Plenty. Imagine a world where, a governing
beverage body told you to use all the ice you have. “Some of you have too much
ice in your freezer,” they’d say, “and all the things you could use the ice with are just waiting to be sold! It’s your fault
that the beverage, margarita mix and snow cone suppliers are going out of
business. Stop saving your cubes! Use all your cubes, and continue to drink
more! Once you’re out of ice, go buy more ice! Once all the ice is gone, drink
the stuff warm! The market is lagging!” They want you to go into an ice deficit
and drink things warm. Shudder at the
thought.
This is a silly, hyperbolic analogy for what the Fed and the
federal government are asking you to do with your money. You labor to earn money. You save some, because if you used it
all today, what would you use tomorrow? They’re asking the banks to lend more
(even if they’re not comfortable with the risks and returns). They’re asking
you to spend more (even if you see nothing that you should buy).
To add insult to injury, bureaucrats are not alleviating the
feeling of uncertainty in either camp.
By shifting policies continuously, federal government is creating an
environment diametrically opposed to spending more. People are beginning to
save more of their money in the face of this uncertainty. People are starting
to acknowledge the future as more opaque.
So what’s the solution?
Don’t listen to government, despite their pleas. You know
best how to use your money (and ice cubes if you want to continue the analogy).
Save what you like. Prepare for the future. In the end, you’re responsible for
your own well-being.