Tag: tradeoffs

Finite Resources

It was a restless night.

I tossed and turned repeatedly, failing to summon slumber.

I was away from home, lying atop a mattress that was too thin and too firm. And I was struggling to get comfortable.

Still, that only explained half of the issue.

For it was a sultry summer night. The air conditioner was going at full blast to combat the muggy conditions outside. But it had turned the guest bedroom into an icebox.

I’d covered myself with a blanket. But it was only so wide. And with each toss and turn, the blanket folded in on itself like a piece of origami.

As the night went on, I felt more and more of me freeze. First, my foot was exposed to the chilled air, then my lower leg, my arm, and my shoulder.

When it became unbearable, I’d shake the blanket free and toss it over my body. But a few tosses and turns later, it would be back to where it was. And I’d be cold again.

It was sometime around 2 AM when I realized the futility of my situation. The blanket was simply not built for my sleep patterns.

I wouldn’t be able to feel fully comfortable in this bed. Each movement I made would come with visceral tradeoffs.

These were the facts. I’d just have to live with them.

Not too long ago, I was watching a hockey game on television.

At a break in the action, a QR code appeared on the screen, promising a chance at a $10,000 grocery giveaway. The winner would get the reward in monthly sums over the course of the year.

I scanned the code and entered the contest. But my name was not picked.

Disappointment washed over me when I learned this news. But it quickly faded.

For I realized that I typically spend far less a month on groceries than the contest promised. And I could still pay for my smaller grocery haul with the plastic card in my pocket.

That card was tied to my bank account, whose balance swelled each time I got a paycheck from my employer.

So, even though this streaming service wasn’t subsidizing my food, I was covered. My employer was footing the bill.

Or not.

My employer, you see, wasn’t simply doling out money from a bottomless vault to keep me fed. It acquired those funds by selling its goods and services to others. Those others were businesses in the insurance industry, who used those goods and services to help provide coverage to consumers.

Many of those consumers were individuals, who covered the value of their homes and vehicles with monthly insurance premiums. The money paid toward these monthly premiums came from their own paychecks – which their employers provided after selling their own set of goods and services.

The dizzying chain I just described is work of the economy. It’s an illustration of the patterns of supply and demand that keep our capitalist society running.

The economy is what keeps us fed, housed, clothed, employed. It’s the engine that keeps us going.

That engine is fueled by two things – finite resources and market participation.

Finite resources mean there’s not enough of everything to go around. There are only so many loaves of bread, pairs of pants, or shiny new vehicles we can produce, for instance. And there’s only so much money we have to offer in exchange for them.

It’s as if we all have a blanket that’s too narrow. We can’t have it all, but we can make tradeoffs to improve our situation. We can participate in the marketplace – as buyers and sellers – to better fulfill our needs.

But if we get too close to the edge of the blanket, market participation breaks down. It becomes too difficult for companies to offer up enough goods, or too expensive for individuals to procure them.

Everything shuts down. And everyone suffers.

It’s an uncomfortable prospect. But one that’s all too real.

Follow the money.

Those three words are perhaps the most memorable of the 1976 film All The President’s Men.

Washington Post journalists Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein have seen their investigation run aground. What started as a story about a burglary has unfurled a broader government conspiracy. But Woodward and Bernstein can’t seem to connect the dots in a manner that is safe for print.

Eventually, Woodward and Bernstein contact a shadowy informant, who urges them to follow the money. This turns out to be the missing link in the investigation.

A trail of payments would ultimately tie the break-in to the administration of United States President Richard Nixon – who seemingly authorized the heist to get intel on his political rivals.

The Washington Post would soon publish its report on what came to be known as The Watergate Scandal. And it would ultimately cost Nixon the presidency.

Following the money is now a central tenet of investigative journalism. It has a way of exposing even the most covert activities.

But following the money can be illustrative outside the newsroom as well.

Indeed, in a world of finite resources and market participation, money speaks loudly. It telegraphs how everything is meant to play out. It provides a map through the chaos.

That is, if we’re willing to pay attention.

That hockey game I was watching – the one with the $10,000 grocery giveaway –was being aired on a new streaming service.

This new service promised to air nearly every game for my local team. All for free.

I was flabbergasted to see this claim.

You see, I’d hardly watched any of my local teams for free before. I’d either paid for a ticket to go to the game or paid for a subscription to watch game telecasts on a cable or streaming channel.

Football offered an exception to this rule. Networks like CBS, FOX, and NBC carried free game telecasts year after year, thanks to decades-old broadcast agreements.

But that was an anomaly.

Indeed, pro hockey seasons included nearly five times as many games as pro football seasons. And to remain solvent, hockey clubs have traditionally relied heavily on fans to pony up for viewing access.

I couldn’t imagine that financial model changing overnight. So, what would be filling that revenue hole for my local team now? If I wasn’t paying for my viewing access, who was?

As I write this, I’ve yet to figure those details out. Just as I’ve yet to determine who’s subsidizing the restrooms at shopping center I recently visited.

Those facilities were too clean and well-furnished for public access. Someone was paying to keep them pristine.

Yet, I continue to dig. On both counts.

Why? Because I know the score.

There are no free rides in the realm of finite resources. Even if someone else is footing the bill, I’m still paying for those game telecasts and fancy public restrooms somehow.

The more I understand this arrangement, the more sustainably I can avail myself of it. Without being abruptly left out in the cold when the blanket folds in on itself.

I’m not alone in this regard. We can all enjoy these benefits. That is, if we Author Dylan BrooksCategories ReflectionsPosted on

Do No Harm

The Hippocratic Oath.

It’s the bedrock of medicine.

Tracing back to ancient Greece, its principles are still followed by doctors today. The text sets a baseline of ethical practices for treating patients.

When translated into modern English, the Hippocratic Oath is 377 words long. But just three of those words seem to garner outsize attention.

Do no harm.

The implication of these words is that physicians must weigh risks and opportunities. The benefit of a particular version of a treatment or intervention might not be worth the costs. Anything that risks harming a patient — even in the service of healing — should be avoided.

Doctors use this heuristic in their everyday practice. So do many other arms of the industry, such as pharmaceutical developers and even regulatory entities in Washington.

There’s a good reason why medical research takes so long to deliver greenlighted treatments.  And there’s a good reason why doctors ask us a litany of questions before making a diagnosis.

Do no harm is that reason.

The Hippocratic Oath has built quite a reputation. But it might have become a victim of its own success.

The oath has worked such wonders in the medical field that other industries have sought to adopt it as well.

Do no harm is now part of the fabric of many types of companies. For instance, Google had the words Don’t be evil within its corporate credo for many years.

The rationale behind this shift is sensible enough. Companies are most effective and efficient when growth charts point up and to the right. Harm threatens that reality.

But in practice, it’s hardly ever that simple.

You see, in the medical field, results live on one axis — that of the patient. Physicians, pharmaceutical firms, and others aim to help the patient recover and function optimally.

This objective is inherently self-contained. Except for cases of infectious disease, the patient’s ailments don’t directly impact the community. So, those in the field can focus on the patient, free of competing interests.

There can be complications, of course — insurance billing quandaries, the price of treatments. But even those purveyors are grounded by a common North Star — the outcome of the patient.

If the patient doesn’t improve, the cost to the insurer skyrockets, and the legitimacy of the pharmaceutical treatment plummets. Neither outcome is good for business, so improved outcomes are critical.

Other industries are not set up with this alignment. The stakeholders operate on different axes and often compete for prominence.

Industry leaders must often walk a tightrope, balancing these interests in search of the most harmonious solution. Much like a blanket that’s too small to cover an entire bed, these solutions rarely make everyone happy.

Given this context, do no harm seems idealistic and nearly impossible outside the medical sphere.

Someone is going to get hurt. The question is who, and how badly.

When you think of famous figures in business, who comes to mind?

Warren Buffet, maybe. Or Henry Ford. Or maybe even John D. Rockefeller.

I doubt Milton Friedman will top that list.

But perhaps he should.

The late economist had an outsized impact on the world of modern business. Friedman’s accolades are vast, including a Nobel Prize. But one piece of his work stands above the rest — a 1970 New York Times article that introduced what came to be known as The Friedman Doctrine.

The Friedman Doctrine states that one priority stands out above the rest for corporations — to maximize return for shareholders. This philosophy — known as Shareholder Theory — posits that profit stands above all other corporate objectives.

In the half-century since this article was published, companies have taken Shareholder Theory to heart. Valuations have soared, innovation has skyrocketed, and many have gotten rich.

Shareholder theory has proven to be a worthy North Star for big business, and our entire economy.

But the gains of this philosophy haven’t been universal. Indeed, many parties have been harmed by Shareholder Theory.

Workers for one. Employees could once expect job security in exchange for performing their duties. But if those duties don’t lead to strong company stock results, those employees can find themselves replaced.

Sustainability is another victim. To maximize profits, companies tend to cut costs. And the cheapest option can often harm the environments of communities along the supply chain.

And social causes also find themselves maimed. Where a company stands on these issues has no import, according to the Shareholder Theory doctrine. Stock performance is where the bread is buttered.

With so many downsides at play, it should come as no surprise that some have vehemently opposed the Friedman Doctrine. And as this activism has picked up steam recently, it’s set up a dilemma for corporate leaders: Do what’s right for the community or do what’s best for shareholders.

Do no harm is out of the equation. Pick your poison has taken its place.

It’s tempting to shrug off the example of the business quandary. It might seem like a dilemma for executives in power suits to decide, rather than something that impacts our own lives.

Yet, we ignore this example at our own risk.

For we are living under the guise of a fantasy. One that tells us we can get what we want without anyone getting hurt.

This is simply not true.

In just about every aspect of our polarized society, our win is another’s loss. The burden of harm gets lobbed back and forth like a ping pong ball, depending on who’s in power and which way the wind is blowing.

Harm is unfortunate, but it can’t be fully avoided.

The sooner we accept this reality, the better. For it will allow us to mend fences with those who’ve been hurt by something that’s helped us, softening the blow for them as much as possible.

This fence mending should be our objective. It’s a North Star that provides some benefits to all, while staying in touch with reality.

So, let’s leave the Hippocratic Oath in the space where it belongs.

Do no harm is a noble ideal. But reduce harm is a goal we can attain.