A few observations:

• Going local. Two impacts.  1) You’re cutting out unsustainable activities, such as burning fuel for shipping, creating waste from packaging, etc.  2) You’re reinvesting your money into your local economy.  What does that mean?  Well, there’s a multiplier effect, and the money you spend on your local economy goes to your local company, who pays your local community members, who in turn buy something from you, which you then spend the money, etc.  Not only are you getting back what you gave out, but any savings you deposit at a local bank then gets invested in a new or expanding local business, who then creates more work, etc. etc.  Isn’t trade good?  Well yes, in a normal economy, workers in other locations get paid and there’s a multiplier in their neighborhood as well as yours.  During economic distress, companies lay people off, businesses go under, and huge banks hold on to their capital (they don’t lend it out because they fear their loans will not be repaid).  So now you have a credit crunch- banks don’t lend, supply of money decreases, people have less money to spend, demand for goods and services decreases, hellooooo recession! or in today’s terms oh, hai, recession, you’re still here…  The examples brought up in the documentary show that this doesn’t happen in a local economy.  The banks have personal relationships with their customers, and in cases where the people in the city own many shares of the bank, it’s mutually beneficial to give loans, keep jobs, take savings, and generally have the economy move forward.
• A similar idea is work co-ops.  A group of people own the company where they work, there’s no conflict of interest, and profits get reinvested into the company, the local community, and the workers themselves.  In addition to the economic effects, there’s a greater sense of community, accomplishment, and level of happiness among the workers.  I’m pretty sure happiness has a multiplier effect as well.
• Well what’s money? A medium of exchange.  Basically, without money, we’d have to barter for everything and spend significant time finding the person who has what we want and wants what we have (transaction costs).  St. Paul, MN has a time bank.  Instead of money, the medium of exchange is an hour or hours of your time.  You provide a service (make a deposit in the time bank), and then get to use an hour of someone else’s time (cash out).  You can create a logo for a local company, and in return find someone else in the time bank network to help you fix the roof.  There’s a sense of belonging and community, and puts value doing what you love and making friends instead of what you’re worth.  As a supplement to the money economy, it’s a great idea.  I doubt it will work on its own, as in the long run, there will be certain jobs that no one wants to do, and since everyone’s time is of equal value, no one will fill that need.  That’s why some people just get paid more; classic example, of course, is the trash picker upper.
• The GDP is by definition quantitative.  It measures in three ways: how much we, as a nation, spend; how much we earn; and how much we add value as goods and services go through a supply chain.  What it doesn’t measure is anything qualitative (duh).  So by definition you can ride a bike to the grocery store, buy a locally produced apple, and then drink some water you brought from home.  Sure, you got exercise, went green, and if you wore plaid and drank from a Sigg bottle, are essentially a hipster.  Good for you.  But you didn’t add much to the GDP, you dolt.  Instead, you should drive your hummer burning gas, buy some imported kiwis and Fiji water imported from well… Fiji, and you’ve contributed a lot more to the GDP.  You can even buy a gym membership to burn the calories you would have by riding your bike. Yay!  You also have a larger carbon footprint by driving, importing goods, and creating waste with the water bottle.  But GDP doesn’t measure that so it’s ok, right?  The documentary points out a fundamental problem with GDP: we’re pushing constantly to expand aggregate demand that we’re not looking at externalities (side effects) and qualitative measures, i.e. obesity.  My take-away is “yes, I agree. Of course.”  I agree that we should take externalities and maybe even human happiness into consideration when looking at the well-being of a nation, but how?  How do we measure it?  Do we have to?  What are the ramifications if we don’t?

I started this entry thinking I got all my economic terms to tie together neatly in a bow.  Honestly, this documentary and what I’ve learned in macroeconomics this quarter has raised more questions than conclusions.  Going local actually decreases aggregate demand because shipping companies don’t employ as many people.  Do you assume they will simply find other jobs?  If unemployment goes up, aggregate demand and short term aggregate supply decrease, investments go down, will that halt long term aggregate supply increases?  Does that matter?  How far can you take “go local” and still reap the benefits of trade?  If being sustainable, i.e. riding your bike, increases your longevity and the longevity of resources but decreases GDP, does it matter?  According to discounted cash flows, isn’t the value of “now” worth more than the “future”?  If happiness and quality of life is more important, why do we measure nations against wealth?  If our population growth in the US is around 1%, but we’re expecting to grow GDP at 2%, how do we keep making up this difference?  Will I spend all my money now to buy a ginormous 10,000 sq. ft. house for myself now and then be broke from 55-death, which won’t be long b/c I’ll also drive, eat processed foods, and die of heart failure?

Maybe Professor Magee (microeconomics professor) was right all along.  Maybe economies is really philosophy.

(via ~c4chaos- Thanks!)

Blogging is not ‘simple.’ A blog is only as successful as its readers. This is a new category of what I don’t know (and there’s a lot). So what is this category? What does it offer? Why should you care?

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When I first started blogging with Xanga over 7 years ago, the concept seemed so simple. It’s an online journal meant to share my life, my interests and my updates. But blogging has evolved so much and so quickly since I was in high school. As I write more and in depth about topics that touch my life and some that don’t (thankfully my company has a great track record for health benefits and insurance), there’s so much to blogging that I just don’t know.

For example, I’ve started reading avidly again. Great! But what’s the right way to write a book review? How do I summarize the basic theme of each work by giving the reader only the key take-aways and convince him/her that it’s worth picking up? Where the best place to find a definition of “brand”? Certainly, HBR or Knowledge @Wharton would have some great insights, but I don’t particularly feel like shelling out $6.50 for the article (or rummaging through my marketing lectures to find out what my professors @ Wharton thought).

or

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“What I Don’t Know” is meant to be a series that answers questions about blogging. What are the techniques of writing a successful book review? What are the best resources for healthcare or social media or politics? Is Wikipedia always the right answer? How do we incorporate blogging tips and templates into our own voice?

Yes, a lot of this will be about how to write. How to successfully communicate. How to be succinct, yet descriptive. How to generate both questions and answers to them.

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Of course, I’ll call on a lot of resources, such as ProBlogger, PR-Squared, Andy Sernovitz, et al. My current read, Made to Stick: Why Some Ideas Survice and Others Die, will help too.

I’ll also depend on you. What are your thoughts? Your best tools? Your loves and hates? Like I said, a blog is only as successful as its readers.

I hope you find this useful. And if you don’t, tell me why.

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Postcript

There are a few reasons I decided to start “What I Don’t Know.”

1. There isn’t enough time in the day to thoroughly research everything I want to write. Trust me; this isn’t a complaint. I LOVE blogging. I love sharing information and randomness(esses) with you. But we can create so much more value if we all share information. Remember, a blog is only as successful as its readers. (Have I said it enough times yet?)
2. Although there are themes, my blog includes a huge variety of subject matters. Most would say that I should either narrow my topic or start different blogs. I disagree.
   • First, this is my blog. Even though I greatly appreciate your feedback and readership, I still have final say over content.
   • Second, I want to cover a variety of topics. None of our lives are solely dedicated to one topic, so why should we have to go to different places to read about different topics. This blog focuses on what’s current, thought-provoking, entertaining and useful. You may not identify with every post, but I hope at least some (if not the majority).
3. There is a need in my life to categorize things, almost to the point of OCD. I like filtering information down to its essence. Since this blog is so broad, establishing categories helps you find what you most want to read. Want to find all the cool gadgets and designs I’ve been drooling over? Go to “sh*t i like.” Care to giggle and squeal at cute animals? Go to “funnnie.” Other categories, like social, stuff, pr/marketing, and just life give you more variety in the posts.
4. Lastly, I’m still learning about blogging. It’s intricate, tricky and I’m bound to make mistakes. I’ve already made many. Maybe this idea will die with the wind, but I hope not. Whatever happens, thank you for joining me in the journey.

Muah! Cheers.