The Elephant and the Dragon: The Rise of India and China and What It Means for All of Us
© 2007 Robyn Meredith
272 pages
For most of the 20th century, Europe and the United States enjoyed an outsided influence on global trade, in part because large portions of the world had sealed themselves off, stewing in their own ideological juices and maintaining impoverished populations. As the 20th began to give way to the 21st, however, the eastern world re-opened. The Elephant and the Dragon begins with a historical note explaining how China and India came to renew their participation in the global economy, then appraises the ways their surging involvement has altered that global system and themselves. Written and published before the 'great recession' -- observing then things now taken for granted, like offshoring -- the book is presumably not quite as relevant as it was on its publication. The fundamental transformations Meredith observes, however, are still in effect.
Why the 'elephant and the tiger', instead of 'the Asian tigers'? Meredith views India's economy as pachydermesque in that while it was slow to get to its feet, slower still to get moving, it will be all the more harder to stop as it picks up speed. Its energy will come not from one point -- the Politburo -- but from billions of Indians, driving forward towards the future they want. India's economic revival came seemingly as a last resort, when in 1992 its leadership recognized that the country was broke. Although the liberalization that followed allowed India to use its existing resources (a strong number of English-speaking professionals) to better effect, its lack of more material resources -- infrastructure like highways and modern airports -- prevented it from becoming an instant industrial power like China. India liberalized at just the right time, becoming an important part of the expanding information technology sector. What began with the dot come surge has continued to the point that India had become the western world's "back office". its workers supplying customer service ,tech support, computer programming, and the like. By now (2017), India's economy has grown being merely the support staff of the west, however.
China's own 'liberalization' -- economic, not political -- began in 1978 when Mao's successor realized the middle kingdom was falling far behind the west, and needed to adopt some of its methods if only out of self defense. (Even during the Mao years, China had learned from Russia's mistakes and so avoided total public control of agriculture.) Although the communist party's pivot towards capitalism meant ceding constant command of the economy, the Party maintains absolute political control and still 'guides' the economy by establishing long-term goals, like an expansion of the highway system. Although westerners commonly regard China's trade advantage as being desperately cheap labor, in reality there are many places with cheaper labor. China combines relatively cheap labor with industrial infrastructure and a government interested in stable growth.
The Elephant and the Dragon is largely oriented toward the world of business, using India and China to illustrate how crucial offshoring and vast supply chains have become to the global economy. Goods are not simply made in a Chinese factory; they pass from city to city in varying stages of completeness, which is why online retailers can offer so much customization. "Made in" labels have lost all real meaning, for a given good will have been produced from goods and materials from across Asia, with other components added in by the United States and Europe. Is a car finished in the United States, but from parts produced in China and Mexico, truly 'made in America'?
While there are more current books, for someone interested in the course of globalization -- particularly the intermingling of the Asia and western economies -- this is still a good start.
Pursuing the flourishing life and human liberty through literature.
"Once you learn to read, you will be forever free." - Frederick Douglass
Showing posts with label commerce. Show all posts
Showing posts with label commerce. Show all posts
Friday, May 5, 2017
Wednesday, November 25, 2015
Oil on the Brain
Oil on the Brain: Petroleum's Long, Strange Journey to Your Tank
© 2007 Lisa Magonelli
Every moment, oil is surging up wells, being chemically
sorted in vast refineries, sloshing its way across continents in pipelines, and
being dispersed throughout the country in trucks to keep over three hundred
million Americans mobile. The same
miracle is effected in other nations across the globe. In Petroleum on the Brain, Lisa Margonelli
begins at her local gas station and backtracks the supply line – riding with
truckers, touring refineries, standing in the pit of oil exchanges, and filling her hands with ancient dirt that
hasn’t seen sunlight in millions of years at the edge of a drilling operation. Although beginning with the American
market, Margonelli’s travels take on a
geopolitical message as she scrutinizes oil’s role in the destabilization of
Africa and the middle east, and looks to the future in China. Although slightly dated (researched and
written in 2004-2005), the
majority of the book’s information remains relevant, and is delivered in humorous style. Petroleum
brims over with personality, as Margonelli connects with lives across the
globe, and demonstrates through her
travels how our lives, too, are knit together with those whose livelihood
Although gas stations are where most consumers of gasoline/petrol enter the market, and absorb
the scorn of disgruntled drivers who see the price continuing to climb, the seemingly ubiquitous c-stations are the
low men on the supply line, in control of nothing and making only a marginal profit
on their gasoline during the best days. As witnessed by Margonelli as she spies
fleets of trucks from different companies pulling up to the same
pipelines, gasoline sold in the United
States is fairly uniform. Some companies add a detergent, but pricing varies
more depending on the location and the market than the product. Given how much oil is being produced,
refined, shipped, and sold every hour, the pace of activity becomes frenetic as
Margonelli travels further up the supply line, encountering harried supply
dispatchers and middlemen. Although her book is about the oil industry, it's a personal encounter with time invested in relationships on Margonelli's part. For her, the gas station owner, the driver, the genius wildcatter in Texas -- they are men and women of passion and intelligence, whose story is bound up with their profession.
Its beginnings scratch idle curiosity as to how the
petroleum industry works, but Margonelli spends more time researching, her text
develops broader appeal, examining the role oil plays in U.S. foreign
policy. Here the book threatens to show
its age: having virtually exhausted its home reservoirs of oil, she writes that the United
States has to secure new supplies across the world, and to that end has been
involved in a series of wars, directly or indirectly. A chapter on Iran sees
her chat with both American sailors and Iranian oilmen regarding an incident
during the Iraq-Iran war, in which half the Iranian navy was sunk by an
American fleet despite the United States’ official non-combatant status. Magonelli also visits petro-states in South
America and Africa, where corruption is apparently immortal; some of the tribal warfare in sub-Saharan
Africa has its roots in villages receiving unequal shares of the loot when oil
companies discovered their untapped potential.
Ultimately, Magonelli believes we must look beyond petroleum, to cleaner
and less volatile energy sources. In her final chapter, the story moves to
China, where a then-ascendant economy was not only gobbling up goal, but
dumping money into clean energy programs in the hopes of expanding China’s consumer
fleet while not further destroying what little clean air remains.
The oil market has continued to evolve in the ten years
since this book was originally, first doubling the highest price marked in her
original next and then falling beneath it. The United States has become again (however temporarily) a net oil exporter, thanks to technological advices that make extracting oil in harder to reach places easier. Oil's votility underscores its
continuing importance to the world economy and political dramas; in the middle east, the swinish mob that is
ISIS finances itself partially through
the oil market. Given that oil won't be bowing out to competition anytime soon, learning its cost and vagaries is utterly helpful for citizens of any country, and Magonelli's account offers entertainment value to boot.
Related:
Related:
- Uncommon Carriers, John McPhee
- Rising Powers, Shrinking Planet, Michael Klare
- Coal: A Human History, Barbara Freese
Monday, August 31, 2015
The Spice Route
The Spice Route
© 2005 John Keay
308 pages
Spock was right. Having a thing is often not as pleasant as wanting a thing. It is not logical, but it is often true. Such was the case with the spice trade, which so tantalized the west that it spurred on a new epoch in human history and fell victim to its own success. For centuries, spices tantalized civilizations across the Old World, uniting them in pursuit. Romans wrote with alarm about the mound of gold and silver being lost to the east in the pursuit of clouds of incense and strange-tasting food. For the west, mystery was a key component in their appeal; they always arrived via streams of middle-men, and no one seemed to know they were were ultimately sourced. (Their guesses based on hearsay could run wild, like Herodotus' Histories. ) Although none of the pined-for substances mace, cinnamon, etc) had preservative powers, they did add subtle and exotic tastes to food that made them attractive even to China, closer to the source. Keay fellows galleys, cogs, and carracks across the seas and through time, beginning with the Roman Empire and moving through medieval conflicts between Christian and Muslim traders before ultimately arriving in the globalized world that the spice trade helped create.
The spice trade's history is worth considering because of its legacy; its traffic was more than mere goods and services. They were utter obsessions to both the European and Arab worlds, and the drive to find them -- to control them, even - spurred on the Age of Discovery and the beginning of a global economy. Because of the antagonism between the Christo-Islamic political spheres Europeans embarked on great adventures to find quicker and better sea routes to the 'spice islands'; they engaged in brutal wars, both against on another and whatever poor souls lay in their way. (Hungry, desperate men with guns don't make for ideal guests, let alone neighbors.) Eventually Europe would win control of spice route trade points from the Arab world, and conquer the spice sources directly. The competition was such -- first between Spain and Portugal, and then even more furiously between English and Dutch trading companies -- that the spice trade fell victim of its own success. So many ships were traveling from Europe to the indies -- around Africa, around the Americas, through the Red Sea and Persian Gulf -- that markets were glutted. A warehouse in England might have a half-decade worth of surplus peppercorn, and this in the age of Sail! The wooden road that now linked Europe, Asian, and American shores brought much more with than spices: it brought competition. Spices now had to contend with regular supplies of coffee, chocolate, chili peppers, tea, sugar -- an entire banquet of new and exotic tastes. The mysterious allure of spices had been lost in discovery, and now they were an old pleasure fading against new possibilities, both in Europe and in Asia. Just as the spice trade united the classical world, Islam, China, and renaissance Europe through the ages, its pursuit led to an Earth increasingly united in trade. The age of Discovery came not from scientific or religious idealism, but sheer appetite.
Keay uses his prior research into China and India here to good effect, drawing on Roman, Arabic, and Asian primary sources to delve into the Mediterranean powers' search for those goods from afar. Although this is a text heavy with details, they don't weight down the narrative too much. The only real limitation of the book is the complete lack of maps, which is problematic considering how large a role geography plays here. I largely read this to introduce myself to Keay's writings, and will definitely try more of his histories.
Related:
A Splendid Exchange: How Trade Shaped the World, David Bernstein
1493, Charles Mann
© 2005 John Keay
308 pages
Spock was right. Having a thing is often not as pleasant as wanting a thing. It is not logical, but it is often true. Such was the case with the spice trade, which so tantalized the west that it spurred on a new epoch in human history and fell victim to its own success. For centuries, spices tantalized civilizations across the Old World, uniting them in pursuit. Romans wrote with alarm about the mound of gold and silver being lost to the east in the pursuit of clouds of incense and strange-tasting food. For the west, mystery was a key component in their appeal; they always arrived via streams of middle-men, and no one seemed to know they were were ultimately sourced. (Their guesses based on hearsay could run wild, like Herodotus' Histories. ) Although none of the pined-for substances mace, cinnamon, etc) had preservative powers, they did add subtle and exotic tastes to food that made them attractive even to China, closer to the source. Keay fellows galleys, cogs, and carracks across the seas and through time, beginning with the Roman Empire and moving through medieval conflicts between Christian and Muslim traders before ultimately arriving in the globalized world that the spice trade helped create.
The spice trade's history is worth considering because of its legacy; its traffic was more than mere goods and services. They were utter obsessions to both the European and Arab worlds, and the drive to find them -- to control them, even - spurred on the Age of Discovery and the beginning of a global economy. Because of the antagonism between the Christo-Islamic political spheres Europeans embarked on great adventures to find quicker and better sea routes to the 'spice islands'; they engaged in brutal wars, both against on another and whatever poor souls lay in their way. (Hungry, desperate men with guns don't make for ideal guests, let alone neighbors.) Eventually Europe would win control of spice route trade points from the Arab world, and conquer the spice sources directly. The competition was such -- first between Spain and Portugal, and then even more furiously between English and Dutch trading companies -- that the spice trade fell victim of its own success. So many ships were traveling from Europe to the indies -- around Africa, around the Americas, through the Red Sea and Persian Gulf -- that markets were glutted. A warehouse in England might have a half-decade worth of surplus peppercorn, and this in the age of Sail! The wooden road that now linked Europe, Asian, and American shores brought much more with than spices: it brought competition. Spices now had to contend with regular supplies of coffee, chocolate, chili peppers, tea, sugar -- an entire banquet of new and exotic tastes. The mysterious allure of spices had been lost in discovery, and now they were an old pleasure fading against new possibilities, both in Europe and in Asia. Just as the spice trade united the classical world, Islam, China, and renaissance Europe through the ages, its pursuit led to an Earth increasingly united in trade. The age of Discovery came not from scientific or religious idealism, but sheer appetite.
Keay uses his prior research into China and India here to good effect, drawing on Roman, Arabic, and Asian primary sources to delve into the Mediterranean powers' search for those goods from afar. Although this is a text heavy with details, they don't weight down the narrative too much. The only real limitation of the book is the complete lack of maps, which is problematic considering how large a role geography plays here. I largely read this to introduce myself to Keay's writings, and will definitely try more of his histories.
Related:
A Splendid Exchange: How Trade Shaped the World, David Bernstein
1493, Charles Mann
Labels:
age of discovery,
Asia,
commerce,
globalization,
history,
John Keay,
Mediterranean,
Middle East,
Near East,
Persia,
Persia-Iran,
Rome
Monday, August 10, 2015
Cod
Cod: A Biography of a Fish that Changed the World
© 1997 Mark Kurlansky
294 pages
In Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky detailed the surprisingly impactful career of a table condiment on human history. The importance of salted fish, both as food and as an industry, popped up again and again, not surprising given that five years earlier Kurlansky had penned an entire book on cod. For coastal peoples, fishing is more than a leisure sport done at the river; it is the sustenance of life itself, the foundation of regional economies. North Atlantic cod have been especially important in this regard, keeping food on the table in England, Spain, Iceland, and New England. Town seals featured the codfish prominently; in Boston, an artifical one hung from the rafters of city hall. In the mid-20th century, several European powers engaged in "cod wars" in which their commerical and quasi-military coast guards grappled with one another, ramming their ships and cutting trawl lines. They were fighting not just to ensure that their respective nations got a good piece of the cod pie, but that the pie would be there in the future. This history of cod has an ecological point, for man's rapacious appetitite and creative gift for fashioning technology to maximize yields has frequently driven populations into peril. Cod demonstates the problem of the commons, in which resources held in public are abused and exhausted; not until nations began aggressively quartering off sections of the ocean and fighting off the competition were populations of the fish possible to measure and protect. Despite moratoriums and restrictive quotas, the codfish have not rebounded as quickly as expected; their future seems to lie in 'farms' (like catfish ponds), a somewhat depressing spectre.
Related:
Russ Roberts of EconTalk interviewed the CEO of a seafood restaurant enterprise this past Monday, discussing the problems of the fish industry today. He followed it today with a podcast on the oyster business. (Roberts has also interviewed people about the potato chip and bottled milk businesses.)
© 1997 Mark Kurlansky
294 pages
In Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky detailed the surprisingly impactful career of a table condiment on human history. The importance of salted fish, both as food and as an industry, popped up again and again, not surprising given that five years earlier Kurlansky had penned an entire book on cod. For coastal peoples, fishing is more than a leisure sport done at the river; it is the sustenance of life itself, the foundation of regional economies. North Atlantic cod have been especially important in this regard, keeping food on the table in England, Spain, Iceland, and New England. Town seals featured the codfish prominently; in Boston, an artifical one hung from the rafters of city hall. In the mid-20th century, several European powers engaged in "cod wars" in which their commerical and quasi-military coast guards grappled with one another, ramming their ships and cutting trawl lines. They were fighting not just to ensure that their respective nations got a good piece of the cod pie, but that the pie would be there in the future. This history of cod has an ecological point, for man's rapacious appetitite and creative gift for fashioning technology to maximize yields has frequently driven populations into peril. Cod demonstates the problem of the commons, in which resources held in public are abused and exhausted; not until nations began aggressively quartering off sections of the ocean and fighting off the competition were populations of the fish possible to measure and protect. Despite moratoriums and restrictive quotas, the codfish have not rebounded as quickly as expected; their future seems to lie in 'farms' (like catfish ponds), a somewhat depressing spectre.
Related:
Russ Roberts of EconTalk interviewed the CEO of a seafood restaurant enterprise this past Monday, discussing the problems of the fish industry today. He followed it today with a podcast on the oyster business. (Roberts has also interviewed people about the potato chip and bottled milk businesses.)
Labels:
commerce,
Early American Republic,
ecology,
goods/services,
history,
sea stories
Thursday, July 23, 2015
The Great Cities in History
The Great Cities in History
© 2009 ed. John Julius Norwich
302 pages
© 2009 ed. John Julius Norwich
302 pages
The Great Cities in History takes
readers on a literary world tour, traveling through space and time to visit the
greatest political bodies in history.
Civilization is nothing if not the ‘culture of cities, and here we
experience its hotspots. Historian John
Julius Norwich and a host of other historians deliver celebratory treatments of
cities within their realm of expertise, covering six continents and lauding
every place from the ancient to the modern. Here are the locus points of empires, world-spanning
religions, and prosperous commercial
enterprises This is a work of historical
tourism; the authors are sharing each site and its community’s story with us in
the way that a tour guide might. Most of the cities are still occupied in the
present day, but the challenges mentioned are limited to environmental
degradation. The text is lavishly
decorated with hundreds of illustrations, including full-page photographs, art
reprints that show scenes of local culture, and photos of surviving artifacts
(in the case of extinct cities). The
cities are organized on the basis of when they achieved their greatest
historical impact, so we begin with Uruk and end with cities that appear to be
leading the way into the future, like Shanghai and New York. Some cities merit
multiple mentions; Constantinople reappears as Istanbul, Rome and London pop up twice, and Mexico City questionably
qualifies given its siting upon the also-covered Tenochtitlan. The near east and the adjacent Mediterranean
world predominate, of course. The dozens
of sections are organized by timeframe, but not linked together with a common
narrative; some authors focus onl y on their city’s greatest moment, while
others track to the current day. They make for fun reading, however, least for
those with even the slightest appreciation for history. Modern readers
accustomed to the world being divided up by nation states, drawing great boxes
around swathes of earth and claiming them as their own, should find a renewed appreciation here for
the fact that human history has been dominated not by kings and abstract
empires, but physical polities defined by stone walls. Great Cities is a treasure to look at and makes for excellent light historical reading.
Labels:
Asia,
cities,
commerce,
history,
Mediterranean,
Middle East,
Near East,
NYC
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Ninety Percent of Everything
Ninety Percent of Everything: Inside Shipping, the Invisible Industry That Puts Clothes on Your Back, Gas in Your Car, and Food on Your Plate.
© 2013 Rose George
287 pages
What is 1300 feet long, travels the distance to the Moon nearly annually, and is nigh-invisible? The answer is any container ship, fleets of which convey the overwhelming majority of all goods traded between cities and continents, but which most people never think about. This may be so because so few people work in modern sea-shipping, or because in the age of terrorism ports are severed from the cities they serve, blocked away by miles of walls and checkpoints. In Ninety Percent of Everything, journalist Helen George spends several months aboard a ship owned by Maersk, a Danish commercial giant, meeting the men and women who keep the fleets float in an effort to understand their experience and the importance of the shipping enterprise in the 21st century.
Like the containers the ships are filled with, Ninety Percent is a glorious grab-bag of topics; a little history, a little science, a little travel, a little military action on the high seas. The Maersk Kendal, George's home for most of the trip, is lead by Captain Glenn, a man who lived through the revolution in shipping that followed "the Box", or the advent of containerization. Once a young seaman on a tramp steamer that moved from port to port, picking up small articles, he witnessed the death of old harbors that were closed to make room for the far larger equipment needed to handle the containers. He is a romantic figure who can navigate the seven seas on a sextant alone, even if the march of time has forced him to spend his days a wheelhouse that resembles a computer lab. Steaming from city to city, through monsoons and canals, ships like his can arrive in a harbor and completely turn over hundreds or thousands of containers in less than 24 hours before departing into the night.
The seamen's experience remains as it has for thousands of years -- lonely, dangerous, and often boring. The views from the ship are of nothing but a long expanse of boxes piled another, and the work is similarly dull for most, constantly cleaning and painting the ship, or tending the house-sized engine. Most sailors come from developing countries the world over, and especially from the Philippines since their ability to speak English is prized. Dismal and unnoted as the work is, like most jobs it's better than starving. As the captain of the Kendal laments, even today when the fast container ships have reduced the globe from the world to a village, their crews are treated like the 'mere scum of the earth'. Ms. George also includes a segment spent on a military vessel hunting Somalian pirates (taking a decidedly unromantic attitude towards the sea-going thugs who are the object of so much fascination by the western press), and visits a portside organization that does its best to ameliorate the condition of the sailors, offering them counseling and sending them goods from home. Although the book concerns modern shipping, George keeps it grounded in history as she can, retelling the story of World War 2's merchant marine sailors who endured the same danger for the same purpose as the Navy, but with little honor or compensation rendered. One positive aspect of the sailors' experience is their time spent in the company of the sea's abundance of life, especially dolphins
Ninety Percent of Everything succeeds in going aboard the massive machine that is a container ship and giving its lifeless expanse of hull and rows of containers a human face; for all the automation, the sealanes still remain the province of sailors who have brain enough to engineer solutions against fickle winds and waves. While George doesn't spend a great deal of time about the mechanics of shipping (nor should she, seeing how that territory was well done in The Box), her account of the human side makes for fantastic reading. Her Yorkshire ancestors would surely be pleased.
© 2013 Rose George
287 pages
UK Title: Deep Sea and Foreign Going: Inside Shipping [...]
What is 1300 feet long, travels the distance to the Moon nearly annually, and is nigh-invisible? The answer is any container ship, fleets of which convey the overwhelming majority of all goods traded between cities and continents, but which most people never think about. This may be so because so few people work in modern sea-shipping, or because in the age of terrorism ports are severed from the cities they serve, blocked away by miles of walls and checkpoints. In Ninety Percent of Everything, journalist Helen George spends several months aboard a ship owned by Maersk, a Danish commercial giant, meeting the men and women who keep the fleets float in an effort to understand their experience and the importance of the shipping enterprise in the 21st century.
Like the containers the ships are filled with, Ninety Percent is a glorious grab-bag of topics; a little history, a little science, a little travel, a little military action on the high seas. The Maersk Kendal, George's home for most of the trip, is lead by Captain Glenn, a man who lived through the revolution in shipping that followed "the Box", or the advent of containerization. Once a young seaman on a tramp steamer that moved from port to port, picking up small articles, he witnessed the death of old harbors that were closed to make room for the far larger equipment needed to handle the containers. He is a romantic figure who can navigate the seven seas on a sextant alone, even if the march of time has forced him to spend his days a wheelhouse that resembles a computer lab. Steaming from city to city, through monsoons and canals, ships like his can arrive in a harbor and completely turn over hundreds or thousands of containers in less than 24 hours before departing into the night.
The seamen's experience remains as it has for thousands of years -- lonely, dangerous, and often boring. The views from the ship are of nothing but a long expanse of boxes piled another, and the work is similarly dull for most, constantly cleaning and painting the ship, or tending the house-sized engine. Most sailors come from developing countries the world over, and especially from the Philippines since their ability to speak English is prized. Dismal and unnoted as the work is, like most jobs it's better than starving. As the captain of the Kendal laments, even today when the fast container ships have reduced the globe from the world to a village, their crews are treated like the 'mere scum of the earth'. Ms. George also includes a segment spent on a military vessel hunting Somalian pirates (taking a decidedly unromantic attitude towards the sea-going thugs who are the object of so much fascination by the western press), and visits a portside organization that does its best to ameliorate the condition of the sailors, offering them counseling and sending them goods from home. Although the book concerns modern shipping, George keeps it grounded in history as she can, retelling the story of World War 2's merchant marine sailors who endured the same danger for the same purpose as the Navy, but with little honor or compensation rendered. One positive aspect of the sailors' experience is their time spent in the company of the sea's abundance of life, especially dolphins
Ninety Percent of Everything succeeds in going aboard the massive machine that is a container ship and giving its lifeless expanse of hull and rows of containers a human face; for all the automation, the sealanes still remain the province of sailors who have brain enough to engineer solutions against fickle winds and waves. While George doesn't spend a great deal of time about the mechanics of shipping (nor should she, seeing how that territory was well done in The Box), her account of the human side makes for fantastic reading. Her Yorkshire ancestors would surely be pleased.
Labels:
commerce,
goods/services,
journalism,
military,
Nature,
Rose George,
sea stories,
shipping,
transportation,
travel
Monday, May 5, 2014
A Splendid Exchange
A Splendid Exchange: How Trade Shaped the World
© 2009 David Bernstein
496 pages
History oft moves with the caravans and trade fleets, and its journeys along the routes of the past and present are given a storied account in A Splendid Exchange. Beginning in ancient Sumer and moving forward to the present day, David Bernstein demonstrates how the lust for goods from afar has linked cities and states together, and driven them apart. The narrative corners nearly every corner of the globe, Antarctica excepting, and ripens into a tentative argument for free trade, though its author isn't too insistent. Bernstein brings a lot to the table; he's a personable author, sometimes wandering off on side-roads but for never too long, and usually delivering something valuable to the reader as a reward for gamely enduring: understanding of how air compressors work, for instance, or what is meant by the economic phrase, comparative advantage. He creates in A Splendid Exchange a marvelously varied history book, following the tale of trade through city-states to nation-empires, from the middle east to South America -- but as varied as it is, no matter the diversity of goods being traded or fought over, the narrative flows seamlessly aside from a jump in the 20th century. Those goods range from the exotic to the mundane; table elements we now take for granted have had far more interesting past lives. Readers may well know that sugar, spice, and all things nice are everything little girls are made of – but they’re also the stuff of world empires and bitter grudges. The importance of trade routes affirms the importance of geography; many of the straits endlessly fought over throughout the book remain heavily in use today, underscoring the relevance of the various trading empires' rise and fall. The same trading routes the Dutch and Portuguese shot their hearts out as cannons attempting to secure are the ones we employ to transport oil, no mere luxury. Our entire global economy is lubricated by trade, which is why Bernstein cautiously presents arguments for freeing it up, with caveats. A Splendid Exchange strikes me as popular history at its finest; varied but cohesive, fun to read but intelligently argued and obviously relevant to our contemporary experience.
© 2009 David Bernstein
496 pages
History oft moves with the caravans and trade fleets, and its journeys along the routes of the past and present are given a storied account in A Splendid Exchange. Beginning in ancient Sumer and moving forward to the present day, David Bernstein demonstrates how the lust for goods from afar has linked cities and states together, and driven them apart. The narrative corners nearly every corner of the globe, Antarctica excepting, and ripens into a tentative argument for free trade, though its author isn't too insistent. Bernstein brings a lot to the table; he's a personable author, sometimes wandering off on side-roads but for never too long, and usually delivering something valuable to the reader as a reward for gamely enduring: understanding of how air compressors work, for instance, or what is meant by the economic phrase, comparative advantage. He creates in A Splendid Exchange a marvelously varied history book, following the tale of trade through city-states to nation-empires, from the middle east to South America -- but as varied as it is, no matter the diversity of goods being traded or fought over, the narrative flows seamlessly aside from a jump in the 20th century. Those goods range from the exotic to the mundane; table elements we now take for granted have had far more interesting past lives. Readers may well know that sugar, spice, and all things nice are everything little girls are made of – but they’re also the stuff of world empires and bitter grudges. The importance of trade routes affirms the importance of geography; many of the straits endlessly fought over throughout the book remain heavily in use today, underscoring the relevance of the various trading empires' rise and fall. The same trading routes the Dutch and Portuguese shot their hearts out as cannons attempting to secure are the ones we employ to transport oil, no mere luxury. Our entire global economy is lubricated by trade, which is why Bernstein cautiously presents arguments for freeing it up, with caveats. A Splendid Exchange strikes me as popular history at its finest; varied but cohesive, fun to read but intelligently argued and obviously relevant to our contemporary experience.
Related:
- 1493, Charles C. Mann
- A History of the World in Six Glasses, Tom Standage
- Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky
- Guns, Germs, and Steel, Jared Diamond
- Sugar: the Sweetness and the Power
Labels:
America,
Asia,
Britain,
commerce,
Europe,
goods/services,
history,
Middle East,
Near East,
Netherlands,
resources,
survey,
trains
Sunday, April 27, 2014
Why We Buy
Why We Buy: The Science of Shopping
© 1997, 2008 Paco Underhill
Simon and Schuster
320 pages
No book on marketing, Why We Buy is an introduction to the novel field of retail anthropology. Young Paco Underhill was once an urban studies student assigned to monitor traffic flow down a given street. Watching pedestrians interact with the shopping displays and vendors lining it, he had an idea; why not watch the shoppers, and figure out what about the goods and services on offer attracted them, and what didn’t? What made certain products fly off the shelf and others not? That idea was the genesis of his now-successful EnviroSell company, a global operation that’s let him study malls and markets in nearly every continent. In Why We Buy, he shares some of what he’s learned, offering readers a fascinating look into their own behavior as shoppers.
© 1997, 2008 Paco Underhill
Simon and Schuster
320 pages
No book on marketing, Why We Buy is an introduction to the novel field of retail anthropology. Young Paco Underhill was once an urban studies student assigned to monitor traffic flow down a given street. Watching pedestrians interact with the shopping displays and vendors lining it, he had an idea; why not watch the shoppers, and figure out what about the goods and services on offer attracted them, and what didn’t? What made certain products fly off the shelf and others not? That idea was the genesis of his now-successful EnviroSell company, a global operation that’s let him study malls and markets in nearly every continent. In Why We Buy, he shares some of what he’s learned, offering readers a fascinating look into their own behavior as shoppers.
Why
We Buy might as well be titled How We
Shop, starting out with an explanation of why its insights may be of value. A store measuring the success a product through sales receipts may be able to say how healthy those sales are, but it can't explain how they were made in the first place, nor is it aware of the opportunities possibly missed. That's where Underhill comes in, studying shoppers' behavior on the floor at length, using cameras to monitor displays and having paid trackers follow people around in shops noting their every move. It sounds creepy, voyeuristic even, but to Underbill it's strictly business. In three core sections, Underhill explains how the mechanics of human bodies affects the shopping experience, studies demographics and the shopping experience, and examines the 'dynamics' of shopping. The author's approach is almost like that of a benevolent zookeeper, watching how humans interact with the environment and then offering suggestions as to how it can changed to make them more comfortable and increase sales. In a chapter that stresses the importance of hands for shopping, Underhill outlines a better strategy for placing shopping baskets than dumping them all in the front: they would be more effective dispersed throughout the store, to be more available to people who started out intending to pick up an item or two but who see more of interest and don't pursue it because their hands are full. Although shopkeepers may not see it as their job to provide conveniences outside their wares -- seats in a Victoria's Secret, for instance -- humans are an adaptive species whose attempts to meet their needs on their own may disrupt the store. When waiting husbands and boyfriends decided to claim the window sills of a benchless lingerie store as seats to rest, they spooked every shopper who was adverse to the notion of shopping for bras under a panel of male eyes. The same is true for items attractive only to children which are placed on top shelves; wouldn't you know it but children have figured out how to stack and climb? So much for the integrity of displays when boxes are tugged out to provide a boost!
Although the information and insights presented here are no doubt valuable to retailers who want to improve their business environment (the book is quoted even in Planning the Modern Public Library) , that information is entertaining in its own right. We're a species very much interested in ourselves, and our behavior while shopping is just as respectable as our behavior within a city, in a war, or on a date. I saw myself in more than a few of the observations here, like the overwhelming majority of shoppers who approach a phone and pick it up, not seriously expecting a dial tone but listening intently anyway. Underhill doesn't seem himself as a marketer, but as an anthropologist, and his anecdotes -- as funny as they are -- only illustrate statistical data. When he moves away from the data his credibility sharply diminishes; at one point he refers to the reader 'knowing' that grocery stores put staples on the perimeter so that shoppers will be distracted by other goods on the way to them, then uses this to write about products being used as bait for other products. The problem there is that milk and other fresh produce are kept in the back because they're highly perishable and need to be close to the loading bays; there's more to business management than marketing. The book's greatest weakness is a chapter on e-commerce in which Underhill defends his claim in the original book that electronic shopping isn't that big a deal. It's understandable that Underhill would have little to offer on the subject, as his methods don't apply. But to say that online businesses play a minor role or haven't yet devised a means of efficient delivery. in an age where services like Amazon Prime are forcing even big-box stores to shutter up, is fantastically erronous. He would have been better served conceding the point instead of standing by the indefensible. Following the dotcom burst in 1997, scoffing at internet retailing is well and good, but in 2007? That chapter aside, the book is great fun and offers a look at how commerce will continue to be increasingly dominated by women and aging boomers.
Although the information and insights presented here are no doubt valuable to retailers who want to improve their business environment (the book is quoted even in Planning the Modern Public Library) , that information is entertaining in its own right. We're a species very much interested in ourselves, and our behavior while shopping is just as respectable as our behavior within a city, in a war, or on a date. I saw myself in more than a few of the observations here, like the overwhelming majority of shoppers who approach a phone and pick it up, not seriously expecting a dial tone but listening intently anyway. Underhill doesn't seem himself as a marketer, but as an anthropologist, and his anecdotes -- as funny as they are -- only illustrate statistical data. When he moves away from the data his credibility sharply diminishes; at one point he refers to the reader 'knowing' that grocery stores put staples on the perimeter so that shoppers will be distracted by other goods on the way to them, then uses this to write about products being used as bait for other products. The problem there is that milk and other fresh produce are kept in the back because they're highly perishable and need to be close to the loading bays; there's more to business management than marketing. The book's greatest weakness is a chapter on e-commerce in which Underhill defends his claim in the original book that electronic shopping isn't that big a deal. It's understandable that Underhill would have little to offer on the subject, as his methods don't apply. But to say that online businesses play a minor role or haven't yet devised a means of efficient delivery. in an age where services like Amazon Prime are forcing even big-box stores to shutter up, is fantastically erronous. He would have been better served conceding the point instead of standing by the indefensible. Following the dotcom burst in 1997, scoffing at internet retailing is well and good, but in 2007? That chapter aside, the book is great fun and offers a look at how commerce will continue to be increasingly dominated by women and aging boomers.
Labels:
anthropology,
business,
commerce,
goods/services,
marketing
Friday, March 21, 2014
The Call of the Mall
Call of the Mall: the Geography of Shopping
© 2005 Paco Underbill
240 pages
Paco Underhill wants to take a little walk with you through the local mall, to see it with his eyes- the eyes of a "retail anthropologist" and marketing strategist who scrutinizes malls as the environments they were built to be: shopping arenas. Born amid the automobile-guided infrastructure buildout of the 1950s, shopping malls have been the crown jewel of American consumerism, dedicated spaces of recreational consumption of goods. The walk, which begins in the parking lot and travels through the cavernous mall's innards, going even down the twisty hallways into the hidden bathrooms, takes reader on a guided tour of the territory, where even toilets don't escape scrutiny. The Call of the Mall is a little business history, a little social musing, and a little advertising/marketing examination. Written more for consumers than business students, it's an entertaining account that offers most another perspective on shopping malls.
Although Underbill spends most of his working life walking around malls, his feelings regarding them are mixed. He seems to enjoy them -- the long stretches of flat marble or tile, air-conditioned walks down channels filled with eye-catching displays and even more eye-catching people -- but his job requires being both appreciative and critical. Throughout the mall tour, Underhill's perspective reveals that for all their flashiness, malls do a lot things badly. Music stores, for instance, have gone downhill since records gave way to CDs, because record sleeves could be used as eye-catching displays. CD covers are as useful for displays seen at a distance as postage stamps. Underhill is also surprised that no store has ever considered using the mall restrooms as a display area for its own equipment (but considering how much volume mall toilets get, would any retailer want to chance his toilet being associated with badly-maintained restrooms?). There are greater problems, too, unavoidable consequences of the malls' status as artifacts of suburbia. Malls are in fact very artificial environments, little island awash in a sea of pavements. A lot of their foot traffic is from teenagers who are there because they have nothing else to do; suburban teens have no place outside of home and school to go to. Underhill makes the point repeatedly that malls are limited by their environment.
In revealing what malls don't do well, Underhill also points out their strengths, and explains to readers, uniitated shoppers, why they might work the way they do. He points out, for instance, that the spaces near entrances and exits are consigned as low rent. One would think otherwise considering they receive greater traffic than the interior of the mall, but Underhill comments that as people are entering a store, they need space to adjust, to adapt to their new environment. As they are making the transition, their mind ignores the first few stores they pass. He also elaborates on some of the strategies that the real estate giants who own the malls employ when deciding who rents what space; different stores have different markets, and there are dynamics to be taken into consideration. A low-end and a high-end jewelry store side by side can enhance one another's business. Underhill goes into several stores to scrutinize their specific practices; he comments on the high-end jewelry store's physical additions, for instance, how they use a black brick facade to minimize window space, sending a clear message of exclusivity to hoi-polloi outside who can't afford $80,000 necklaces.
Shopping malls are a mixed bag, an experiment in retailing that may change as time passes, or may fail entirely. Demographics are changing, writes Underbill, as is technology; online stores are giving brick-and-mortar (or in suburban cases, plywood and concrete) an increasingly hard time, and this work was penned ten years ago, before Amazon Prime and similar services. The Call of the Mall will probably frustrate marketing students looking for a catalog of tricks of the trade, because while Underbill offers general suggestions and reveals a few practices, he's not going to give away the farm considering he makes a living as a consultant helping businesses organize their physical space. For the ordinary person on the street -- or in the aisles -- The Call of the Mall is an entertaining look into the workings of places we might spend a lot of our time in.
© 2005 Paco Underbill
240 pages
Paco Underhill wants to take a little walk with you through the local mall, to see it with his eyes- the eyes of a "retail anthropologist" and marketing strategist who scrutinizes malls as the environments they were built to be: shopping arenas. Born amid the automobile-guided infrastructure buildout of the 1950s, shopping malls have been the crown jewel of American consumerism, dedicated spaces of recreational consumption of goods. The walk, which begins in the parking lot and travels through the cavernous mall's innards, going even down the twisty hallways into the hidden bathrooms, takes reader on a guided tour of the territory, where even toilets don't escape scrutiny. The Call of the Mall is a little business history, a little social musing, and a little advertising/marketing examination. Written more for consumers than business students, it's an entertaining account that offers most another perspective on shopping malls.
Although Underbill spends most of his working life walking around malls, his feelings regarding them are mixed. He seems to enjoy them -- the long stretches of flat marble or tile, air-conditioned walks down channels filled with eye-catching displays and even more eye-catching people -- but his job requires being both appreciative and critical. Throughout the mall tour, Underhill's perspective reveals that for all their flashiness, malls do a lot things badly. Music stores, for instance, have gone downhill since records gave way to CDs, because record sleeves could be used as eye-catching displays. CD covers are as useful for displays seen at a distance as postage stamps. Underhill is also surprised that no store has ever considered using the mall restrooms as a display area for its own equipment (but considering how much volume mall toilets get, would any retailer want to chance his toilet being associated with badly-maintained restrooms?). There are greater problems, too, unavoidable consequences of the malls' status as artifacts of suburbia. Malls are in fact very artificial environments, little island awash in a sea of pavements. A lot of their foot traffic is from teenagers who are there because they have nothing else to do; suburban teens have no place outside of home and school to go to. Underhill makes the point repeatedly that malls are limited by their environment.
In revealing what malls don't do well, Underhill also points out their strengths, and explains to readers, uniitated shoppers, why they might work the way they do. He points out, for instance, that the spaces near entrances and exits are consigned as low rent. One would think otherwise considering they receive greater traffic than the interior of the mall, but Underhill comments that as people are entering a store, they need space to adjust, to adapt to their new environment. As they are making the transition, their mind ignores the first few stores they pass. He also elaborates on some of the strategies that the real estate giants who own the malls employ when deciding who rents what space; different stores have different markets, and there are dynamics to be taken into consideration. A low-end and a high-end jewelry store side by side can enhance one another's business. Underhill goes into several stores to scrutinize their specific practices; he comments on the high-end jewelry store's physical additions, for instance, how they use a black brick facade to minimize window space, sending a clear message of exclusivity to hoi-polloi outside who can't afford $80,000 necklaces.
Shopping malls are a mixed bag, an experiment in retailing that may change as time passes, or may fail entirely. Demographics are changing, writes Underbill, as is technology; online stores are giving brick-and-mortar (or in suburban cases, plywood and concrete) an increasingly hard time, and this work was penned ten years ago, before Amazon Prime and similar services. The Call of the Mall will probably frustrate marketing students looking for a catalog of tricks of the trade, because while Underbill offers general suggestions and reveals a few practices, he's not going to give away the farm considering he makes a living as a consultant helping businesses organize their physical space. For the ordinary person on the street -- or in the aisles -- The Call of the Mall is an entertaining look into the workings of places we might spend a lot of our time in.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Daily Life in Anglo-Saxon England
Daily Life in Anglo-Saxon England
© 2008 Sally Crawford
224 pages
© 2008 Sally Crawford
224 pages
Who were the Anglo-Saxons? For a
people conquered in 1066, their culture seems strangely dominant; the land the Normans conquered remains
England, not Greater Normandy, and Norman French is only an influence on the
more native English, never having displaced the old language. Daily
Life in Anglo-Saxon England examines the earthy details of the
Anglo-Saxons’ lives; the construction of their homes, the styles of dress, the
culture they practiced at home and in community with one another. Separate
chapters address both the material, like tools and towns, and cultural
(religion and governance). While some
sections are based on physical artifacts, other evidence is documentary, taken from
older histories like Bede’s, or inferred from miscellaneous documents. The assertion that the Anglo-Saxons valued
family care is drawn both from the presence of an adult skeleton who was born
missing an arm and various descriptions of personalities in histories and
graves as doting kinsmen and the like.
The book has a somewhat slow start (save for readers who are utterly
fascinated by the difference between sunken-earth homes and free-standing houses as archaeological sites), but on the
whole is quite engaging. The main point
of the author’s writing is to rescue the Saxons from the perception that they
were filthy peasants, knuckle-dragging their way around mud huts until the
arrival of Christianity and the Norman French.
Her survey of their social life certainly illustrates how rich a life
their culture possessed, and how sympathetic they can be even to modern
readers.
Labels:
Anglo-Saxons,
Britain,
commerce,
farming,
history,
manners and morals,
Medieval,
religion,
social history
Friday, December 27, 2013
The Men Who United the States
The Men Who United the States: America's Explorers, Inventors, Eccentrics and Mavericks, and the Creation of One Nation, Indivisible
© 2013 Simon Winchester
496 pages
The Men who United the States is a storied account of how the American people came to realize their ‘manifest destiny’, from the explorers who plied rivers and mapped the vast expanses to the technological tools that knit the continent together. It is organized thematically, utilizing the five elements of Chinese mythology: wood, earth, water, fire, and metal. Although most sections cover the full expanse of American history, the focus of each moves forward; ‘metal’ largely concerns revolutions in communications technology, culminating in the Internet while ‘fire’ covers the effects of the steam and combustion engines. Politics and war are downplayed: this is the tale of explorers and inventors whose dangerous and enterprising deeds made political dreams a factual reality. Winchester is a personable author, often inserting his attempts to retrace the tracks of some intrepid but doomed explorer along mountain passes or through river rapids. It's an odd element in a work of history, but works well enough despite sometimes bordering on off-topic. Winchester makes for a winsome host through the annals of American explorers, and his work of adventure, history, and technological progress are sure to find a warm reception among readers.
© 2013 Simon Winchester
496 pages
The Men who United the States is a storied account of how the American people came to realize their ‘manifest destiny’, from the explorers who plied rivers and mapped the vast expanses to the technological tools that knit the continent together. It is organized thematically, utilizing the five elements of Chinese mythology: wood, earth, water, fire, and metal. Although most sections cover the full expanse of American history, the focus of each moves forward; ‘metal’ largely concerns revolutions in communications technology, culminating in the Internet while ‘fire’ covers the effects of the steam and combustion engines. Politics and war are downplayed: this is the tale of explorers and inventors whose dangerous and enterprising deeds made political dreams a factual reality. Winchester is a personable author, often inserting his attempts to retrace the tracks of some intrepid but doomed explorer along mountain passes or through river rapids. It's an odd element in a work of history, but works well enough despite sometimes bordering on off-topic. Winchester makes for a winsome host through the annals of American explorers, and his work of adventure, history, and technological progress are sure to find a warm reception among readers.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
The Box
The Box: How the Shipping Container Made the World Smaller and the World Economy Bigger
© 2006 Marc Levinson
376 pages
It’s not every day an invention completely revolutionizes its industry, let alone the world. And yet that’s what the shipping container, a mere box, did. Within a few years’ time, it rose from one ambitious entrepreneur’s scheme for expediting freight shipments into the global standards, one which completely replaced methods of shipping which had endured for thousands of years. Gone were the huge numbers of longshoremen required to pack and unpack hundreds of pallets per ship, and the 'inventory shrinkage' that accompanied it. Within a decade of its introduction, mighty ports like London and New York had been completely humbled, outmoded by containerization – a technology which offered seamlessly integrated freight distribution across sea, rail, and road, but at a price of wholescale adoption of it and the new equipment produced to carry it. The Box details shipping containers’ genesis, their rise in use, and the effects of their adoption, like greater concentration of shipping interests into a few big lines and increased government involvement in the service – both results of the amount of resources needed to earn greater profit-by-volume. The account is sometimes dry (there’s a considerable section on the problems of finding just the right corner fittings for the Box), but enlivened by some of its personalities – especially Malcolm McLean, the truck driver who introduced containers in the United States because it allowed him to bypass his competitors. An unruly risk-taker, McLean appears throughout the volume, which almost chronicles his taking over world trade: every time containers made prodigious advances, like becoming the American standard or moving into international routes, he was there. (The fact that the entire volume of traffic between the United States and Britain could be handled by five container ships should give modern readers an idea of how containerization allowed a few large lines to begin dominating the industry. Container ship lines are truly the 'big box' stores of the seas.) To begin appreciating how world-unifying globalized trade began, look no further than The Box.
© 2006 Marc Levinson
376 pages
It’s not every day an invention completely revolutionizes its industry, let alone the world. And yet that’s what the shipping container, a mere box, did. Within a few years’ time, it rose from one ambitious entrepreneur’s scheme for expediting freight shipments into the global standards, one which completely replaced methods of shipping which had endured for thousands of years. Gone were the huge numbers of longshoremen required to pack and unpack hundreds of pallets per ship, and the 'inventory shrinkage' that accompanied it. Within a decade of its introduction, mighty ports like London and New York had been completely humbled, outmoded by containerization – a technology which offered seamlessly integrated freight distribution across sea, rail, and road, but at a price of wholescale adoption of it and the new equipment produced to carry it. The Box details shipping containers’ genesis, their rise in use, and the effects of their adoption, like greater concentration of shipping interests into a few big lines and increased government involvement in the service – both results of the amount of resources needed to earn greater profit-by-volume. The account is sometimes dry (there’s a considerable section on the problems of finding just the right corner fittings for the Box), but enlivened by some of its personalities – especially Malcolm McLean, the truck driver who introduced containers in the United States because it allowed him to bypass his competitors. An unruly risk-taker, McLean appears throughout the volume, which almost chronicles his taking over world trade: every time containers made prodigious advances, like becoming the American standard or moving into international routes, he was there. (The fact that the entire volume of traffic between the United States and Britain could be handled by five container ships should give modern readers an idea of how containerization allowed a few large lines to begin dominating the industry. Container ship lines are truly the 'big box' stores of the seas.) To begin appreciating how world-unifying globalized trade began, look no further than The Box.
Labels:
commerce,
goods/services,
history,
labor,
NYC,
shipping,
technology,
Technology and Society,
transportation
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Uncommon Carriers
Uncommon Carriers
© 2006 John McPhee
256 pages
Uncommon Carriers invites readers to spend a day in the life of a truck drivers, ocean-going cargo ship and riverbound freight tugboat pilots, train engineers, UPS aviators, and -- just for good measure -- pleasure-canoers sailing the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. Aside from the odd inclusion of his retracing Henry David Thoreau's oar-beats, the work is part human interest and part-inside look into the transportation service that keeps the world of goods going round. Some sections are more useful to the latter end than others; his chapter on cargo ship pilots takes place at a training school off the coast of France, and communicates the difficulty of moving across something that has a mind of its own, but nothing about the business of commercial freight. The chapters on river freight and UPS more conducive to understanding the ins and outs of the industry. What Uncommon Carriers offers besides that is the personal aspect of these jobs. McPhee's research is all first-hand: he shares the lives of the men who do these jobs, befriending some and enduring the teasing of others. He's especially fond of the truck driver who carries a chemistry book to help him wash his rig, judges truck stops on whether they carry his beloved Wall Street Journal, and who moonlights as a wordsmith. The account is peppered with many lively characters like him. On whole, this was quite an interesting peek into a world we depend on so much.
Related:
Ninety Percent of Everything: Inside Shipping, the Invisible Industry that Puts Clothes On Your Back, Gas in Your Car, and Food On Your Plate. Rose George
© 2006 John McPhee
256 pages
Uncommon Carriers invites readers to spend a day in the life of a truck drivers, ocean-going cargo ship and riverbound freight tugboat pilots, train engineers, UPS aviators, and -- just for good measure -- pleasure-canoers sailing the Concord and Merrimack Rivers. Aside from the odd inclusion of his retracing Henry David Thoreau's oar-beats, the work is part human interest and part-inside look into the transportation service that keeps the world of goods going round. Some sections are more useful to the latter end than others; his chapter on cargo ship pilots takes place at a training school off the coast of France, and communicates the difficulty of moving across something that has a mind of its own, but nothing about the business of commercial freight. The chapters on river freight and UPS more conducive to understanding the ins and outs of the industry. What Uncommon Carriers offers besides that is the personal aspect of these jobs. McPhee's research is all first-hand: he shares the lives of the men who do these jobs, befriending some and enduring the teasing of others. He's especially fond of the truck driver who carries a chemistry book to help him wash his rig, judges truck stops on whether they carry his beloved Wall Street Journal, and who moonlights as a wordsmith. The account is peppered with many lively characters like him. On whole, this was quite an interesting peek into a world we depend on so much.
Related:
Ninety Percent of Everything: Inside Shipping, the Invisible Industry that Puts Clothes On Your Back, Gas in Your Car, and Food On Your Plate. Rose George
Labels:
commerce,
on the job,
rivers,
shipping,
trains,
transportation
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Satisfaction Guaranteed
Satisfaction Guaranteed: the Making of the American Mass Market
© 2004 Susan Strasser
348 pages
America was born of the frontier, its citizens people who by necessity often manufactured their own household requirements. This was the case throughout most of the 19th century: even in cities where people could purchase articles like candles and clothing. But by that century’s end, a revolution was in the process – a consumer revolution in which virtually every household good, from food to cleaning solutions, came from factories. Even more remarkably, however, those goods weren’t even coming from the factories through familiar faces at local groceries: they were entering the lives of people through new mail-order schemes and colossal supermarkets. Satisfaction Guaranteed examines how a few entrepreneurs transformed Americans’ lifestyles and marketplace.
Like Never Done and Waste and Want, Satisfaction is chiefly focused on social history, and together the three examine various facets of Americans’ transformation from producers to consumers, of how a nation of nominally self-reliant farmers and merchants became one of employee-consumers and big business. Unlike her previous workers, however, here Strasser presents a critical business history, rather like Straight Out of the Oven or Cheap. To explain the success of the new businesses, she demonstrates to readers how they created completely new business and marketing practices, like ‘market segmentation’ – targeting particular products within a brand to specific demographics. Another novelty was that of the brand name or trademark, which could be used to build a reputation for quality. They also depended on new technologies and systems, either material (in the form of railroads that allowed for mail-order companies to flower and deliver cheaper goods through volume sales) or legal, like court decisions that made corporations easier to form and much more effective at managing interstate businesses. Strasser places the most emphasis on marketing, however, for it was marketing that introduced Americans to completely new goods (‘Oleomargarine? What kinda cow makes that?), marketing that coaxed them into trying it even when their local grocers didn’t want to stock it, and marketing that gradually lured them into not only using products, but becoming dependent on them. Marketing is why invention is the mother of necessity.
Although Strasser regards consumerism as wasteful, she doesn’t rail against the giants that promote it – indeed, depend on it. There are no villains in this piece, though she’s plainly sympathetic to the small businessmen, like the neighborhood grocers and general store managers, who were at first forced to keep goods on their shelves they had no experience with , and then driven out of business when large chains like A&P Groceries invaded. (Ads of the day directed potentials customers that if their local firms didn’t carry Crisco or the brand in question, they should forward the names and addresses of those firms to the corporation, who would see to it that the goods were offered for retail.) The new branded products didn’t offer storekeepers much of a profit margin, and eventually corporations began seeing local retailers as obstacles to reaching as broad a customer base as they possibly could – and that was the goal: not meeting needs, but devising any way to create and capture new markets. Whereas once Americans produced things in-house to satisfy their needs, now they were consumers who bought whatever ensnared their interests – and following the ‘credit revolution’, they didn’t even need to be limited by what they could afford.
Strasser’s previous work has been lively yet comprehensive, and Satisfaction Guaranteed largely meets those standards. Covering the intersection of business practices and lifestyle, she focuses more on new approaches business management than on lifestyle, the usual center of attention, which may broaden her audience to those interested in business in general. This by no means detracts from its appeal as an introduction to the origins of mass consumerism in America, however.
© 2004 Susan Strasser
348 pages
America was born of the frontier, its citizens people who by necessity often manufactured their own household requirements. This was the case throughout most of the 19th century: even in cities where people could purchase articles like candles and clothing. But by that century’s end, a revolution was in the process – a consumer revolution in which virtually every household good, from food to cleaning solutions, came from factories. Even more remarkably, however, those goods weren’t even coming from the factories through familiar faces at local groceries: they were entering the lives of people through new mail-order schemes and colossal supermarkets. Satisfaction Guaranteed examines how a few entrepreneurs transformed Americans’ lifestyles and marketplace.
Like Never Done and Waste and Want, Satisfaction is chiefly focused on social history, and together the three examine various facets of Americans’ transformation from producers to consumers, of how a nation of nominally self-reliant farmers and merchants became one of employee-consumers and big business. Unlike her previous workers, however, here Strasser presents a critical business history, rather like Straight Out of the Oven or Cheap. To explain the success of the new businesses, she demonstrates to readers how they created completely new business and marketing practices, like ‘market segmentation’ – targeting particular products within a brand to specific demographics. Another novelty was that of the brand name or trademark, which could be used to build a reputation for quality. They also depended on new technologies and systems, either material (in the form of railroads that allowed for mail-order companies to flower and deliver cheaper goods through volume sales) or legal, like court decisions that made corporations easier to form and much more effective at managing interstate businesses. Strasser places the most emphasis on marketing, however, for it was marketing that introduced Americans to completely new goods (‘Oleomargarine? What kinda cow makes that?), marketing that coaxed them into trying it even when their local grocers didn’t want to stock it, and marketing that gradually lured them into not only using products, but becoming dependent on them. Marketing is why invention is the mother of necessity.
Although Strasser regards consumerism as wasteful, she doesn’t rail against the giants that promote it – indeed, depend on it. There are no villains in this piece, though she’s plainly sympathetic to the small businessmen, like the neighborhood grocers and general store managers, who were at first forced to keep goods on their shelves they had no experience with , and then driven out of business when large chains like A&P Groceries invaded. (Ads of the day directed potentials customers that if their local firms didn’t carry Crisco or the brand in question, they should forward the names and addresses of those firms to the corporation, who would see to it that the goods were offered for retail.) The new branded products didn’t offer storekeepers much of a profit margin, and eventually corporations began seeing local retailers as obstacles to reaching as broad a customer base as they possibly could – and that was the goal: not meeting needs, but devising any way to create and capture new markets. Whereas once Americans produced things in-house to satisfy their needs, now they were consumers who bought whatever ensnared their interests – and following the ‘credit revolution’, they didn’t even need to be limited by what they could afford.
Strasser’s previous work has been lively yet comprehensive, and Satisfaction Guaranteed largely meets those standards. Covering the intersection of business practices and lifestyle, she focuses more on new approaches business management than on lifestyle, the usual center of attention, which may broaden her audience to those interested in business in general. This by no means detracts from its appeal as an introduction to the origins of mass consumerism in America, however.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Basic Economics
Basic Economics: A Common Sense Guide to the Economy
© 2010 Thomas Sowell
789 pages (4th edition)
Basic Economics is a sweeping introduction to the fundamental principles of market economics and their application to constituent elements of the local and global economy like insurance, banking, trade, labor, and housing. Although the principles chosen emphasize Sowell's value of free markets, Sowell maintains that certain principles such as the role of incentives, are basic to every economic approach. Drawing from business and political history, Basic Economics is an argument by way of education, one simultaneously impressive and suspicious.
Its scope is grand, but the text coherent: though Sowell offers the reader a girth of data to consider, it is presented in a narrative form. Graphs and charts very seldom intrude on what is more often histories of clashes between competing companies, interest groups, and economic ideologies. Sowell first establishes his principles of economics (his working definition of that being, the study of how scarce resources with alternative uses are allocated) , then working from the general to the particular, demonstrates them in action with the aforementioned data. Most of Sowell's examples are drawn from American business or political history, but comparisons between it and the planned economies of the Soviet Union and pre-1990s India are rife, and he sometimes plucks illustrations from Asia and Africa as well. Each section, containing multiple chapters, concludes with an overview that summarizes the essential points and provides further commentary. After establishing how prices work to moderate demand -- items being demanded less at higher prices, and more at lower prices -- he examines the concept at work in the housing market, demonstrating cases in which rent controls destroyed the market for affordable housing by increasing the demand for cheap housing., and discouraging developers from building further out of fear that regulation will forever squelch any hope they have of profit. By the same factors, Sowell writes, the gas lines in the 1970s were caused not by the oil crunch, but by the government imposing price controls to keep prices lower than the market would have set them, and thus inflating demand by encouraging people to take advantage of the lower-than-market price.
Though Sowell's argument is mighty, given his reputation as a pundit one wonders if all the facts are in evidence in this 'scientific' approach to economics. Sowell examines history on the basis of his economic principles, and nothing else: he recounting the Bank of America's rise, he asserts its founder succeed because if his local knowledge and intimate ties with the Italian immigrant community, something no central bank or governing authority could do well. What Sowell doesn't recount is that the Bank of America prospered because the Great San Francisco earthquake and fire of 1906 consumed so many of its competitors. Sowell's arguments about the consequences of rent and price controls have heft, but economic transactions do not contain all of life; there are outside circumstances and greater contexts to consider -- despite the spirit of vae victus, success is its own justification that reigns here. Basic economics is too simplistic: humans are not specimens of Homo economicus, weighing incentive in our heads and acting rationally in our pure self-interest. In one section on brands, Sowell describes them as a substitute for particular and local knowledge: that is, while you have no idea how healthy the burgers at a greasy spoon diner in the middle of nowhere are, or how they taste, upon seeing the Golden Arches towering above the road you can rest easy, knowing that inside is a product that is perfectly predictable, right down to the shape of the fries -- it is food held to overriding, national standards of safety and appearance But for Sowell, that's all the brand is: a guarantor of standards. As true as that may be, it ignores the psychological aspect of brands on the mind, aspects the commercial firms are themselves aware of and capitalize on, working overtime to implant affection for their brands in the minds of children so that when tykes grow up to be adults, they will be loyal customers.
Basic Economics offers a great deal of food for thought, but like the offerings of McDonalds which it hails, there are limits to its nutritional value. It is most valuable in explaining the elementary concepts of economics and educating citizens as to why public policy decisions relating to the economy have the unexpected consequences that they do: if the minimum wage is raised, why would companies not seek to employ fewer works? Something as complex as an economy, consisting as it does of an infinite number of transactions between buyers and sellers over a similarly uncountable number of goods and services, is perhaps too unwieldy to plan as we hoped. It does not, however, ease concern of what we then ought to do, and Sowell's detachment here, while welcome in explaining the problem, leaves one wondering if in the cold world of economics there is room for more humane considerations.
© 2010 Thomas Sowell
789 pages (4th edition)
Basic Economics is a sweeping introduction to the fundamental principles of market economics and their application to constituent elements of the local and global economy like insurance, banking, trade, labor, and housing. Although the principles chosen emphasize Sowell's value of free markets, Sowell maintains that certain principles such as the role of incentives, are basic to every economic approach. Drawing from business and political history, Basic Economics is an argument by way of education, one simultaneously impressive and suspicious.
Its scope is grand, but the text coherent: though Sowell offers the reader a girth of data to consider, it is presented in a narrative form. Graphs and charts very seldom intrude on what is more often histories of clashes between competing companies, interest groups, and economic ideologies. Sowell first establishes his principles of economics (his working definition of that being, the study of how scarce resources with alternative uses are allocated) , then working from the general to the particular, demonstrates them in action with the aforementioned data. Most of Sowell's examples are drawn from American business or political history, but comparisons between it and the planned economies of the Soviet Union and pre-1990s India are rife, and he sometimes plucks illustrations from Asia and Africa as well. Each section, containing multiple chapters, concludes with an overview that summarizes the essential points and provides further commentary. After establishing how prices work to moderate demand -- items being demanded less at higher prices, and more at lower prices -- he examines the concept at work in the housing market, demonstrating cases in which rent controls destroyed the market for affordable housing by increasing the demand for cheap housing., and discouraging developers from building further out of fear that regulation will forever squelch any hope they have of profit. By the same factors, Sowell writes, the gas lines in the 1970s were caused not by the oil crunch, but by the government imposing price controls to keep prices lower than the market would have set them, and thus inflating demand by encouraging people to take advantage of the lower-than-market price.
Though Sowell's argument is mighty, given his reputation as a pundit one wonders if all the facts are in evidence in this 'scientific' approach to economics. Sowell examines history on the basis of his economic principles, and nothing else: he recounting the Bank of America's rise, he asserts its founder succeed because if his local knowledge and intimate ties with the Italian immigrant community, something no central bank or governing authority could do well. What Sowell doesn't recount is that the Bank of America prospered because the Great San Francisco earthquake and fire of 1906 consumed so many of its competitors. Sowell's arguments about the consequences of rent and price controls have heft, but economic transactions do not contain all of life; there are outside circumstances and greater contexts to consider -- despite the spirit of vae victus, success is its own justification that reigns here. Basic economics is too simplistic: humans are not specimens of Homo economicus, weighing incentive in our heads and acting rationally in our pure self-interest. In one section on brands, Sowell describes them as a substitute for particular and local knowledge: that is, while you have no idea how healthy the burgers at a greasy spoon diner in the middle of nowhere are, or how they taste, upon seeing the Golden Arches towering above the road you can rest easy, knowing that inside is a product that is perfectly predictable, right down to the shape of the fries -- it is food held to overriding, national standards of safety and appearance But for Sowell, that's all the brand is: a guarantor of standards. As true as that may be, it ignores the psychological aspect of brands on the mind, aspects the commercial firms are themselves aware of and capitalize on, working overtime to implant affection for their brands in the minds of children so that when tykes grow up to be adults, they will be loyal customers.
Basic Economics offers a great deal of food for thought, but like the offerings of McDonalds which it hails, there are limits to its nutritional value. It is most valuable in explaining the elementary concepts of economics and educating citizens as to why public policy decisions relating to the economy have the unexpected consequences that they do: if the minimum wage is raised, why would companies not seek to employ fewer works? Something as complex as an economy, consisting as it does of an infinite number of transactions between buyers and sellers over a similarly uncountable number of goods and services, is perhaps too unwieldy to plan as we hoped. It does not, however, ease concern of what we then ought to do, and Sowell's detachment here, while welcome in explaining the problem, leaves one wondering if in the cold world of economics there is room for more humane considerations.
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