2012-12-24
Original: 2012-12-24 on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Title: "Scarcity"
"Economics," said the fat man, "is the study of the allocation of scarce resources."
The fat woman nodded.
"However," he continued, searching through the papers on his desk for a particular one, "that is only a recent definition. In the past, economics has been the study of the allocation of very scarce resources."
She nodded.
"Prior to that, it was extremely scarce resources." At this point, he located a drawing of the descent of man. This drawing was unusual, in that at each evolutionary stage, the figures were drawn with bigger and bigger heads, depicting the swelling of the brain. "In fact," he said, handing the image to her, economics can be traced all the way back to a particular March in 1,532,814 B.C., during which a group of sapiens in sub-Saharan Africa had to divvy up a turnip. At that time, economics was defined as the study of the allocation of this one turnip."
"How was it resolved?"
"Of course that is lost to history in its particulars," he said. "However, there is reason to believe that it was resolved through the application of Newton's Second Law, as embodied in a fist."
"How primitive," she said.
"Indeed. Those would have been honorable too simple to make use of the laws of thermodynamics to resolve turnip disputes, much less the laws of relativity."
She wrote this down. He appreciated this, and it moved him to go on.
"Now, the point here is this -- the study of economics is the study of a moving target. It began in the study of how to allocate a few very rare things. Then it became the study of how to allocate a few moderately rare things. With the advent of cold fusion 50 years ago, it reached what can be considered an inflection point."
"The post-scarcity society," she ventured.
"Wrong!" he shouted, thrusting a finger into the air. "The entire last generation of economists has made the willfully naive mistake. No, don't you see? If nothing is scarce, what is scarce?"
She hesitated. It was important to her that she not look foolish to the new boss.
"Wrong! If there are no scarce resources, the only scarce resource is scarce resources."
"I don't follow."
"If everyone has everything, the only thing scarce is something nobody else has."
She nodded.
"Madame, this is the post scarcity world of scarcity. No doubt those bottles will be transmuted into some useful substance, and those trees will return within weeks. But, for the moment, you are the only one to have Canadian pine."
She recoiled at this idea, but nevertheless found herself attracted to the wooden box, its mellow brown sinews expertly carved and sanded. She touched it for a second time. It was hard and just a little cold.
He smiled at her.
"Don't you see," he said. "We're sitting on a goldmine here!"
He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a wooden box.
"What is it?" she asked.
She nodded again and crossed her legs.
"Don't you see," he said. "We're sitting on a goldmine here!"
He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a wooden box.
"What is it?" she asked.
He opened it. Inside was a bright red apple, kept slightly chilled and moist by its container. Three evenly spaced drops of dew glistened on the yellow dapples near its stem.
"It's an apple," she said.
"Have a bite."
She indicated herself. He nodded. She grimaced, then put down her notepad. With a slight tremble, she reached out her right hand for the fruit. Its red skin was as flawless as the red lipstick she'd spent twenty minutes applying that morning. Her teeth pressed through its exterior into more cold flesh. It was amazing.
She shivered with delight as she crushed the sweet flesh in her molars.
"Every single apple just like that one," he said, grinning, "has just turned into maggots!"
She swallowed, eyes wide.
"We sold hundreds of them!" he said, standing from his chair and turning around to look out the window. The cityscape was a gorgeous mass of glass and French curves. "We sold ninety-nine hundred apples this morning, and by tonight there won't be a single living apple anywhere in the world."
"WRONG! They'll be delighted! Mind you, not as delighted as the person eating the apple. BUT, these people will each have an experience only had by 9,999 other individuals."
"I see," she said slowly. "But then, you can't mass produce these."
"By definition, no. But we can produce more varieties. We have a prototype orange that turns into locusts and a banana that bugs the merry when you eat it."
"If I may," she said, "if I may, it seems that this you're merely just introducing ugly things into people's lives and then offering to take them away."
"And that is the new economics, madame." He smiled. "Take a note. Economics is the study of the creation of scarce resources."
Votey:
Woman: "Aren't you a cartoonist?"
Man: "BANANA!"
"Economics," said the fat man, "is the study of the allocation of scarce resources."
The fat woman nodded.
"However," he continued, searching through the papers on his desk for a particular one, "that is only a recent definition. In the past, economics has been the study of the allocation of very scarce resources."
She nodded.
"Prior to that, it was extremely scarce resources." At this point, he located a drawing of the descent of man. This drawing was unusual, in that at each evolutionary stage, the figures were drawn with bigger and bigger heads, depicting the swelling of the brain. "In fact," he said, handing the image to her, economics can be traced all the way back to a particular March in 1,532,814 B.C., during which a group of sapiens in sub-Saharan Africa had to divvy up a turnip. At that time, economics was defined as the study of the allocation of this one turnip."
"How was it resolved?"
"Of course that is lost to history in its particulars," he said. "However, there is reason to believe that it was resolved through the application of Newton's Second Law, as embodied in a fist."
"How primitive," she said.
"Indeed. Those would have been honorable too simple to make use of the laws of thermodynamics to resolve turnip disputes, much less the laws of relativity."
She wrote this down. He appreciated this, and it moved him to go on.
"Now, the point here is this -- the study of economics is the study of a moving target. It began in the study of how to allocate a few very rare things. Then it became the study of how to allocate a few moderately rare things. With the advent of cold fusion 50 years ago, it reached what can be considered an inflection point."
"The post-scarcity society," she ventured.
"Wrong!" he shouted, thrusting a finger into the air. "The entire last generation of economists has made the willfully naive mistake. No, don't you see? If nothing is scarce, what is scarce?"
She hesitated. It was important to her that she not look foolish to the new boss.
"Wrong! If there are no scarce resources, the only scarce resource is scarce resources."
"I don't follow."
"If everyone has everything, the only thing scarce is something nobody else has."
She nodded.
"Madame, this is the post scarcity world of scarcity. No doubt those bottles will be transmuted into some useful substance, and those trees will return within weeks. But, for the moment, you are the only one to have Canadian pine."
She recoiled at this idea, but nevertheless found herself attracted to the wooden box, its mellow brown sinews expertly carved and sanded. She touched it for a second time. It was hard and just a little cold.
He smiled at her.
"Don't you see," he said. "We're sitting on a goldmine here!"
He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a wooden box.
"What is it?" she asked.
She nodded again and crossed her legs.
"Don't you see," he said. "We're sitting on a goldmine here!"
He reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a wooden box.
"What is it?" she asked.
He opened it. Inside was a bright red apple, kept slightly chilled and moist by its container. Three evenly spaced drops of dew glistened on the yellow dapples near its stem.
"It's an apple," she said.
"Have a bite."
She indicated herself. He nodded. She grimaced, then put down her notepad. With a slight tremble, she reached out her right hand for the fruit. Its red skin was as flawless as the red lipstick she'd spent twenty minutes applying that morning. Her teeth pressed through its exterior into more cold flesh. It was amazing.
She shivered with delight as she crushed the sweet flesh in her molars.
"Every single apple just like that one," he said, grinning, "has just turned into maggots!"
She swallowed, eyes wide.
"We sold hundreds of them!" he said, standing from his chair and turning around to look out the window. The cityscape was a gorgeous mass of glass and French curves. "We sold ninety-nine hundred apples this morning, and by tonight there won't be a single living apple anywhere in the world."
"WRONG! They'll be delighted! Mind you, not as delighted as the person eating the apple. BUT, these people will each have an experience only had by 9,999 other individuals."
"I see," she said slowly. "But then, you can't mass produce these."
"By definition, no. But we can produce more varieties. We have a prototype orange that turns into locusts and a banana that bugs the merry when you eat it."
"If I may," she said, "if I may, it seems that this you're merely just introducing ugly things into people's lives and then offering to take them away."
"And that is the new economics, madame." He smiled. "Take a note. Economics is the study of the creation of scarce resources."
Votey:
Woman: "Aren't you a cartoonist?"
Man: "BANANA!"
Alt text
A text-heavy, essay-style SMBC comic titled "Scarcity," presented mostly as a wall of prose with no panel art until the end. The story: a fat male economist explains to a fat woman taking notes that economics has always been "the study of the allocation of scarce resources," tracing it back jokingly to prehistoric humans fighting over a single turnip, resolved by a fist (Newton's Second Law). He argues that in the modern post-scarcity world enabled by cold fusion, the only scarce thing left is scarcity itself -- if everyone has everything, the only scarce resource is something nobody else has. He pulls a wooden box from his desk holding a single perfect, dewy red apple and invites her to take a bite. She does; it is delicious. He grins and reveals that every apple just like it has now turned into maggots -- they sold thousands, deliberately making apples scarce and disgusting so people will pay for the rare experience of a good one. They are prototyping an orange that turns into locusts and a banana with a nasty trick. The woman observes he is merely introducing ugly things into people's lives and then offering to take them away. He smiles and concludes: economics is now the study of the CREATION of scarce resources. Votey (the bonus panel): a rough cartoon drawing of the man and woman leaning close together; the woman asks "Aren't you a cartoonist?" and the man shouts "BANANA!" in a speech bubble.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.