The Paradox of Prosperity: A Fable of Modern Economy

Mountaineers traded everything. On market days, everyone brought chickens, eggs, smoked pork, and bread. Negotiating product swaps and needs took time. They helped each other restore farms after storms and harvest season, like their predecessors. They knew others would aid if needed.

A stranger with glossy black shoes and a white top hat entered the hamlet on market day. His scornful smile persisted. A farmer chasing his six hens for a huge chunk of smoked pork made him laugh. A guy exclaimed, "Poor folks!" "What a neck-breaking task!" Farmer's wife: "Do you think you can handle these chickens better?" Stranger: "Chickens? Not really. This issue can be fixed faster." "Really? How? asked farmer's wife.

"Do you see that tree over there?" A stranger replied. I'll wait for a large cowhide from a peasant. Invite all families. Will offer tweaks."

This occurred as he stated. The stranger rounded the cowhide and imprinted beautiful seals. Each piece was a chicken, he informed each family. He adds "Now, you can trade and negotiate using these coins instead of dealing with the troublesome chickens."

Everyone understood. The top-hatted man with flashy shoes stood out. "Next year, I'll sit under this tree again," the visitor said after giving each family 10 cents. Send 11 cents from every residence. This eleventh coin shows your appreciation for my scientific breakthroughs." "But where will the eleventh coin come from?" said the six-chicken farmer. The stranger smiled, "You'll find out when the time comes."

What if the village's population and output held steady next year? Remember the eleventh coin never existed. Despite succeeding, one of the eleven homes must pay the other 10 their money.

A family stopped helping move crops before a storm to safeguard their harvest. Using coins instead of bringing chickens to the market was easier, but this new monetary system hindered local collaboration. New money game players became systematic rivals.

If the villagers asked the top-hatted individual, "Sir, could you please give us more money so that none of us will go bankrupt?"

"I can do it if they pay me. I can lend money to anyone with more chickens than due since each round coin is worth one chicken. I can use their hens as collateral if they don't pay. People who promise to breed more chickens may earn money from me since I'm excellent. Show me your business plans! Smart people can develop chicken colonies 20% each year with my 10% interest loan. Be successful and repay me."

They say, "That sounds reasonable, but if you're creating new money with a 10% interest rate, we'll never have enough money to repay you in the end."

The stranger said, "No problem. I'll make more money and coins to repay them before then. Ready to lend more. Keep improving your farms and breeding chickens." Sir, my family is sick and can't afford food. Could you enhance our funding?"

I can't, he said. Only those willing to return get money. If your family has a few hens as collateral, I'll give you money or you may work harder to raise more chickens." This method worked until a few setbacks. Villagers immediately reared chickens to pay the top-hatter. Poor or unskilled went bankrupt. Lucky (or more efficient) neighbors bought and rented their farms. Chicken farms rose 10% as money became available. Like the man in the top hat, others cut more round coins and offered them to anybody with a chicken farm development plan as the hamlet and chicken farms grew.

Time showed hurdles. No one needs that many chickens. The kids said "We're tired of eggs." She remarked, "Every room in the house has a chicken feather bed." Extravagances were designed to keep chicken popular. Monthly replacement feather beds, additional storage structures, and chicken beautifying gardens were needed. Huge egg-throwing bouts resolved green space disputes with neighboring communities. Mayor, brother-in-law of top hat person, encouraged consumption. He said, "Increase chicken demand! This will benefit us."

A local elder noticed another issue. Once green, village fields now stink. Chicken feed replaced crops and vegetables. Chicken feces cesspools replace fish and wildlife ponds and streams. She wailed "Enough! Poo will swamp us if we build chicken farms!"

"Don't worry, another village with rich fields is under that road," the top hat guy said calmly. Our people will raise chickens. That village's residents are outnumbered if they disagree. You're stupid for talking growth prevention. How will neighbors repay? How to boost output? I may become bankrupt!" Every hamlet became a chicken poo dump beside large, useless poultry farms. Villages campaigned for long-lasting green spaces. Growth stalled despite efforts. Many paid the top hat guy with all their money, stalling development and increasing obligations. Many worked low-wage jobs to pay the top hat person owing to bankruptcy. Chicken product prices hurt demand and growth. The oversupply of ecologically destructive chicken production and fewer people with fundamental needs generated scarcity.

Modern civilization is. Financial pressure will always make people frantic to cut down the last forest, catch the last fish, sell a pair of sneakers, or liquidate whatever remaining natural, cultural, social, or spiritual capital. We never have "enough" because an interest-based debt economy swaps "current goods for future goods," but "more future goods." You must steal (create rivalry) or produce "money" from common resources to survive.