Brought on by this, and something related that I read last week - ah, here it is.
I never had a real job as a teenager, though some of my friends did. I did yard work for various friends of the family, and made pretty decent money at it. My parents were providing me with all the necessities, but if I wanted one of those newfangled HP scientific pocket calculators? Had to work for it.
Helped develop the consultant's work ethic: you're here to do what the client wants done. There's no job description to say that a given task is not in it. Life's like that in the small-business world, too: your business card may say Senior Engineer as befits your fancy degree, but some days your job is furniture mover or drain unclogger.
Seems there's no room for that sort of thing in the modern lifestyle.
And... I went to high school in Palo Alto. Back in those days, it wasn't a total gazillionaire enclave, but the population was largely well-to-do, professional-class families.
Senior year of high school, only a few of my friends had cars, and those were beaters: hand-me-downs from family, or bought well-used.
More recently: a friend of mine was living in a prosperous (but nowhere near Palo Alto level) area during the first .com bubble, and had kids in high school. All their classmates who were old enough to drive had cars. Brand-new beemers. And, when they inevitably wrecked them? No problem; they'd get newer shinier replacement beemers. The friend couldn't afford this sort of extravagance, and was apparently regarded as a bad parent for failing to provide her offspring with fashionable luxury transportation.
Yes, it's much nicer to be prosperous than to be poor... but social pressure to overspend is destructive, and modern professional-class attitudes toward manual labor are decidedly unhelpful. (And if the plumber is such an ignorant lout, let's see you fix your own plumbing!) Then there's the "spending is better than mending" attitude, which may make economic sense (comparative advantage and all that) but leaves the new generation helpless if something breaks down and there’s no repairman handy (or no money to hire a repairman).
Can we develop maybe a new pride in traditional middle-class values? Things like living within our means, knowing how to fix our own stuff and when to call the repairman (and when, as a last resort, to buy a replacement), saving for a rainy day, and trying to make things that little bit better for the next generation?
Or are we stuck with having it all right now, racking up big debts, and counting on a bailout?
Additional: Comes to mind a sci-fi quote. No, not "specialization is for insects", though that'n makes sense here too. It's this, from Niven's "A Relic of the Empire":
Did the Jinxian know how to live poor? Mann shuddered. The old memories came back only rarely; but when they came, they hurt.
You have to learn not to buy luxuries before you've bought necessities. You can starve learning which is which. Necessities are food and a place to sleep, shoes and pants. Luxuries are tobacco, restaurants, fine shirts, throwing away a ruined meal while you're learning to cook, quitting a job you don't like. A union is a necessity. Boosterspice is a luxury.
And more, interspersed with the ongoing storyline.
Seems to me we're on about the second generation of "middle-class" people who are effectively brought up rich, and have no idea how to live poor or even working-class.
Me, I was brought up frugal-middle-class. (My parents have gotten fairly rich, between the frugality and my father's investments that he bought instead of a fancier house, bass boat, and all those other fripperies. By fairly rich, I mean: the investments pay enough in dividends for them to live comfortably on, with a couple of slightly-upscale vacations a year, nice clothes, a new car every decade, and, lately, some improvements to the house and garden.) I've had good times and bad, but, between the frugal conditioning and such financial reserves as I've managed to retain (mainly derived from the leftovers from my college trust fund, which turned out to be far more than I needed for college), I've managed to make it through the occasional bad year without burning through everything.
Now, if I'd treated the reserve funds as ready cash... I would have lost the mansion and the Lamborghini at the first downturn. As it was, I had no problem keeping the crackerbox and the old Jeep when paychecks got irregular back in the 90s, and at various times since, though my lifestyle has gotten decidedly down-market. (Because lifestyle upgrades need to be supported by cash flow, darn it! Reserve money is for emergencies.)
But the ones who are brought up to believe in the Beemer Fairy? What'll they do when the hard times come?
(Hint: these aren't the hard times. These are moderately difficult times. Things can get a lot worse.)
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