Since people keep asking me about this little list, let me note it here. It concerns a view I have distilled over some time in regards to what is to be considered expensive. My personality being what it is, I have gone through periods of severe austerity as well as wanton profligacy with equal conviction. There was a time when I bought only Charles Tyrwhitt shirts, leased only brand-new cars, and wouldn't dream of moving into a place without granite countertops. There was also a time when I bought a used Hyundai after haggling the price down below the state-proscribed minimum for tax purposes, lived in a dilapidated house in a dangerous neighborhood two hours away from work by public transit, and would not buy any clothes priced above $20. Through both, I could argue so convincingly that my actions were logical and advantageous that other people readily believed me.
The argument for indulgence was, predictably, a combination of you-get-what-you-pay-for and life's-too-short, while the argument for austerity was that in the long run, saving brings more satisfaction than spending, whose delights are unreliable and tend to wear off. Both arguments seem valid and compelling, yet they send opposite messages for one's lifestyle. It is interesting to confront them and dig deeper, particularly after experiencing first-hand the effects of abiding by them for a while. This is exactly what I found myself doing over time.
My conclusion is that there are subtleties to both arguments that, on the one hand, dilute their messages but, on the other, allow them to be combined into a coherent whole. I didn't get what I paid for every single time. Even when I did, I sometimes concluded that what I got was not exactly what I wanted. And depriving myself of the seemingly wasteful pleasures of impulse spending caused a gradual decline of creativity and kindness, two traits essential to human happiness. When I kept at it long enough, I became a dull, dour miser without even realizing it. My relationships suffered, I failed to see opportunities around me, and I inflicted unnecessary pain on myself.
These days I seem to have found the happy medium by combining the truthful parts of the two philosophies. I am not afraid of spending money and sometimes spend a lot, but only when I am sure that it is necessary and will make me happy for more than a day. I try never to overpay, having devised a specific definition of what that means. This definition is what I referred to in the first paragraph and the essence of this post. Here, then, are the three ways to overpay:
- Simple arbitrage: you could have paid less for the exact same thing. The emphasis is on sameness, which includes not just what you acquired but also all the intangibles like convenience and dignity of the transaction. For example, you buy a shirt at Saks for $200 and then notice the same shirt at Nordstrom across the street for $150. Let us assume that the Nordstrom salespeople are just as helpful as Saks', that the exchange policy is exactly the same, and so on. The experience would have been substantially identical in all respects that matter to you, but you could have saved $50 at the end. Instead, you effectively burned $50 in an ashtray.
- Buying a Ferrari when a BMW would do: you pay a high (though fair) price, but the extra cost doesn't justify the extra pleasure. Different people have different preferences, and they don't appreciate the same things equally. But things cost the same for everyone, so it is possible to pay more and get more, yet not enjoy it more. It is difficult to provide a universal example of this, since each reader will value things differently. Still, let me try this one: imagine making a round trip somewhere and having a choice between flying an airline's first class and flying in a private jet. The private-jet option is $10,000 more expensive, though you actually have that much money to spend. So you take the private jet there, but on the way back you take the first class. Upon return, you think to yourself that, although the private jet was more luxurious, comfortable, and convenient, you were quite satisfied with the first class, too. In retrospect, you wish you hadn't spent the extra ten grand on the private jet because you don't feel you got ten-grand's worth of extra value, and you could have put that money to a different use. You overpaid not because you could have gotten the same for less money but because you didn't need what you bought. (Thanks to my friend Spiro for coining the pithy Ferrari analogy.)
- Spending money you don't have: you pay a fair price and enjoy what you got, but you couldn't really afford it. Even when you do your homework, finding the lowest possible price and ensuring you got every cent's worth according to your personal preferences, you could still overpay if the price is higher than your budget. This kind of behavior leads to indebtedness and financial distress that can quickly overcome all the joy derived from spending. A classic example is when people buy a house too expensive for their income level. It may be a great value for the money and still cause bankruptcy. I find that this kind of overpayment usually happens when I hang out with the wrong people. When I see those around me buying nice and useful things at bargain prices, it's easy to forget to ask myself whether I can afford those prices at all.
Putting these rules into words has helped me make better decisions and avoid the dangerous extremes I was given to in the past. I doubt, however, that I could have divined the rules before going through all the experiences I mentioned. Sometimes you have to make your mistakes so you can learn from them.
... and it was quite a good one. Time well spent.
No matter how much I tell myself that fear and regret are useless, I can't help but rue the waste of human potential. I often hear about cases like this, which remind me of my own people's history. Note the words
It is good that this small but dignified protest succeeded. [...] But perhaps it is also a little depressing to see how the daily struggle to lay his hands on this and that has subsumed Mr Htein Lin's grander ambitions
No kidding -- a little depressing? How can anything be "good" about this? How can a rational person not regret getting ensnared into a vicious trap of fortune? One random turn of fate leaves you in a black hole from which you escape through super-human strength and ingenuity, barely reaching normalcy again. Meanwhile, your peers elsewhere breeze through life with nary a strenuous thought, ending up far ahead. In the end, all anyone can see is that you're behind. Tell yourself it'll all work out for the best and you've built character even if you don't have much to show for all the effort. I'd have to be crazy not to have regrets.
The commutation of Scooter Libby's jail sentence has aroused passions on both the left and the right, though neither seems to acknowledge the other's good points. Defenders of the decision rightly point out that Libby was prosecuted for something marginal to the main crime committed -- that of leaking a CIA agent's identity, whose actual perpetrator is known but was never charged. Instead of punishing the ultimate culprit, the prosecution ended up joining a political spate between the White House and Joseph Wilson. Furthermore, the case for perjury hinges on Libby's recollection of his conversation with journalist Tim Russert. Because Libby's and Russert's recollections differed, Libby got charged. One wonders if prosecutors always have such a hair trigger, and if so, why anyone would ever cooperate with them. By such standards, how much jail time should Bill Clinton get for his faulty recollections of the Lewinsky affair?
But the other side has its own meritorious arguments. Even if the prosecutor was overzealous, it's hard to find major faults with the trial itself. Libby was found guilty by the jury of his peers on four of the five counts, and the sentence seems in line with the sentencing guidelines. How can the President pronounce it too harsh when it is based on universal and public standards for such convictions? Does that mean that every other sentence in similar cases is also too harsh? If so, why not commute them all?
Finally, if anyone is to labor under close scrutiny of prosecutorial watchdogs, it should be the people in high political offices. They are the holders of enormous public trust and example-setters for the rest of the nation. If law is sacrosanct and justice blind, the best way to reaffirm those principles surely is to hold the powerful responsible for any offense, no matter how small.
Apparently, the divorce rate of college-educated women in America went from 29% in 1989 down to 16.5% in 2004. Without over-interpreting this one data point, it should be obvious that the widely-held belief in astronomical divorce rates is faulty. I keep hearing that almost half American marriages end up in divorce, but this is evidently not true for the population segment I tend to circulate in. There is still hope for happily ever after, it seems.
Sadly, the family breakdown rages ever more fiercely among the poor, forming a vicious circle and keeping people down. Some see this as a major contributor to the widening wealth gap. I'm happy the country is liberal enough not to stigmatize single parents, but how can it continue to thrive once its people realize that the American Dream is unreachable to the majority of them?
Another surprise is that the divorce rate is higher among couples who live together before marriage. This seems very counter-intuitive. Living together is the only way to really get to know the other person and experience first hand what marrying them would be like. I would think it's an essential eye-opener before making a life-long commitment, a dress-rehearsal for the most important show in your life. And yet, statistics suggest you're more likely to succeed without it.
Here's a quote from Martin Wolf that elucidates the surprisingly high cost of aggressive communication style:
If one set of opinions is allowed to suppress others, by force or by fear of force, then the permanent discussion that should permeate any free and democratic society ends. Only the freedom to challenge and debate can overthrow prejudice. Coercion does not secure conviction, but merely suppresses dissent.
The quote is from a longish article of Wolf's in Financial Times, and I don't necessarily agree with the entire article. But this small excerpt describes a separable and important idea: aggression hurts truth, even when trying to defend it.
For the curious, here's the article's full text.
A deluge of reader letters responding to this article defended Amnesty International's choice to broaden its definition of rights worth campaigning for. I myself certainly still donate to it. But the Economist makes some good points: diluting Amnesty's focus may reduce its authority and effectiveness, and anti-Americanism is a fashion fad best left to salon communists. Which reminds me that I want to read "What's Left?"
I think the melodies of "Into the Dark" and "Hey Julie" sound very much alike, at least at the start.
You gave me just enough courage to get myself in trouble.
And all the knowledge I gained only taught me to beware.
It's been a while since anyone's really got to me,
But you and I both know she's almost there.
She turns heads and opens doors, makes anything a good idea.
The likes of her caused wars in times of ancient past.
Eyelashes like waterfalls, soft fingers and bright smile.
You made her well, I see -- you must have had a blast.
I dream of perfect future, although I should know better.
Thoughts swirl in my head, but here's the most essential:
She'll walk away the minute she's had her fun with me.
Her only interest is herself; my joy is unintentional.
The drinks are flowing tonight, the music's perfect.
Great mood, and I see we're headed for another start.
She laughs, she dances, she lets me draw her closer.
Yet I know I can't melt that icicle in her heart.
And I'm forever wondering where to go from here.
Seeing a love trap, do I charge or do I steer clear?
I'll tell you what, though: you didn't give me a fair chance.
Either take away my yearning or stop sending these flawed vamps.
Copyright 2007 Dejan Mircevski
E. V. Lucas wrote:
"The art of life is to show your hand. There is no diplomacy like candor. You may lose by it now and then, but it will be a loss well gained if you do. Nothing is so boring as having to keep up a deception."
My first instinct is to agree wholeheartedly; not much good has ever come from trying to deceive, particularly in the long term. Be candid up front, and save yourself the trouble down the road.
But then I started wondering if this is just another one of those pastoral "wisdoms" typically promoted by pampered ingénues safe from the real world. Consider Mario Chanes de Armas or Emmett Till. What did their candor gain them?
