Economics and the self-check-out
How often do I do basically dumb things?
Too often to count!
Last week, after a lovely dinner with a good friend, I made the idiot mistake of having a cup of coffee.  Twenty years ago, that would not have been a problem. Today, not a good idea.
I totaled, without exaggeration, two hours of sleep that night. The next day I was a zombie.
I tried, at 2 a.m., to fall asleep by reading. Even that old, tried-and-true remedy didn’t do the trick.  I became caught in a detective story. I put that too-interesting book away and began the search for Samuelson, my economics text book from college.
Samuelsson’s book is the best soporific in the world. His explanation of the ways in which supply and demand work are better than medication. But I couldn’t find the book.
It’s not that economics is boring, it’s something that is such a basic part of living that writing about it is much like writing about walking. You have to be really creative to make it exciting.
And economists do tend to use undecipherable charts and tables that further confound the marginally interested. These illustrations make your eyes close without warning.
Because economics is so universally a part of living, we often forget that it has an enormous effect on the quality of our lives. From how much income you have compared with your expenses, to the larger, not-often-thought-about issues of how we spend our earth’s resources, economics can determine so much of our “fate” that it can be scary. If you are aware of this, and take the time to think about it, that also can keep you awake.
Economics is like infrastructure in many ways.
As my high school social studies teacher said, “ Economics is about how you manipulate scarce things.” You take roads and potable water and power as givens until there are potholes, harmful algae blooms or power outages. We often forget about air as a resource, something that is also a part of supply and demand. Air is there. But what is in the air changes. What is in the air affects you in a most intimate way. Breathing is not optional.
About the only resource that seems to be unlimited on this earth is the sun although in Syracuse and its environs, that sometimes seems a stretch, but the sun is there …  above the clouds. Really! And even the sun’s energy can be scarce if we don’t have the technology to harness it. If there is a demand for clean, sustainable energy, do we have the technology to capture the supply?
When there is a push/pull between preservation or conservation of natural resources and the exploitation of those resources for commercial use (read profit,) we have to measure what we want as students of economics. Do we pollute our air, water and earth in exchange for money, whether jobs or profit? Or, in the parlance of those who have a vision of what the bottom line should be … wealth creation?
Profit vs. the health of our children, the quality of life?  Are there viable options?
Or, in the pursuit of profit margins, are we risking the disappearance of jobs through outsourcing either to other countries or robots.
I walked into the big box store in what was once Camillus Plaza and was confronted by glitzy television screens and self-check-outs where only a few weeks ago there were cash registers operated by women I have gotten to know over the years.  Why?
If we apply the supply-demand process to the question, what is the demand? Shoppers demanding to check their purchases out themselves?  Eliminating cost centers? Reducing prices? Increasing profits?
How does this loss of income affect those whose jobs have been eliminated? These employees create demand in the larger economy. If we compare this to the use of the salaries of the women whose jobs were taken over by self-check-outs,  self-check-outs don’t spend money in the community. Self-check-outs don’t buy products in the store where they are located. Self-check-outs don’t pay taxes.
It’s a choice, and there are those who will say that this is a way to keep prices low and that, in a market economy, the monetary bottom line takes precedence over the needs of individuals.
I may continue to drink coffee after noon on occasion and reap the sleepless night, but I promise that I will not use a self-check-out or forget that the bottom line should serve the purposes of people’s lives.

Ann Ferro is a mother, a grandmother and a retired social studies teacher. While still figuring out what she wants to be when she grows up, she lives in Marcellus with lots of books, a spouse and a large orange cat.