productivity | Funny about Money

One thing that’s fast becoming clear: when your time is unstructured, lists have their uses. Now that I’ve attained Bumhood, it’s amazing how fast time goes by without much getting done!

In the past, long before Mary Kay Ash started teaching her acolytes to scribble their entrepreneurial tasks in lipstick on the bathroom mirror, I used to write to-do lists every day. In my first job as a publication editor, I would end each day by making a list of the following day’s tasks and leave it on my desk, thereby jump-starting the next day. This pretty much guaranteed the work got done by deadline. Something about checking off accomplishments, no matter how minor, builds momentum.

Lately, though, I’ve found myself killing too much time in cruising the Web and not enough time living, so I decided to revive the list habit, at least in a sporadic way.

Yesterday this quirk gave a hint of its potential power.

Apparently I ate something that made me sick—it left me under the weather all day. I really didn’t feel like doing much. But I had a list. Even though I was dragging around, when the day ended I realized I’d done a surprising number of tasks. Didn’t get out for a long walk with the dog or spend time loafing at the fancy shopping center where Cassie likes to hold forth as the center of everyone’s attention. Never got back to pruning and fertilizing roses. But…

• Did the laundry
• Chlorinated the pool
• Reset the pool equipment
• Watered a few plants
• Wrote a blog post
• Updated Excel spreadsheets
• Set up online bill paying for the S-corp’s Visa card
• Paid the Visa bill online
• Paid the Cox bill online
• Wrote & posted three online quizzes for this spring’s students
• Learned how to use a new feature of BlackBoard, the online teaching software
• Posted syllabi
• Emptied out the binder I use as my mobile “office” for the community colleges
• Used heavy card stock to build new dividers, all printed out and nifty
• Organized binder to accommodate three new classes
• Started decluttering the stuffed file cabinet in the garage
• Cleaned the car windshield again, it not having turned out to be quite pristine the last time I washed the car
• Took the dog for a walk…sort of.

Doubt if I’d have done any of those without a list of things to check off. Think of all the stuff that would’ve gotten done if I’d felt like moving!

You can, I think, get carried away with this strategy. When I was a little kid, a playmate’s parents used to stick a daily list on his bedroom wall—it filled an 8 1/2 x 11 sheet of paper and specified what he would be doing each moment of the day. Literally: they put down when he would brush his teeth and when he would go from the bathroom back to his bedroom to get dressed and when he would appear in the kitchen for breakfast. Poor little guy…can you imagine having your life regimented like that?

It’s not necessary to map out every living, breathing minute to use listing to jump-start your day. Often a rough list of ideas for things to do will get you going, so that once you’re started, you end up accomplishing a great deal more than you would have without the check-it-off impetus. Sometimes I’ll retroactively add to the list activities that I got sidetracked into doing and check them off, just to congratulate myself for getting something done that day. Yesterday, for example, though I never did make the bed, change out of my grubbies, trim the roses, or clean house, I did add things that didn’t require me to move far from the computer: uploaded syllabi as well as quizzes, cleaned last semester’s junk out of the teaching binder and organized it for next semester, and shoveled off the top of my desk.

Well, folks, I tried to bring down the world’s economy by staying home on Black Friday, and it didn’t work: by golly, the Dow had its best week since 1932. Apparently it’s not necessary for us all to keep spending ourselves into bankruptcy to keep this country going.

Not that some didn’t have their hearts in it. In Palm Desert, enthusiastic shoppers got excited enough to take a few pot shots at each other, killing two. Even more amazingly, at a Long Island Walmart happy consumers trampled an employee to death in their stampeding ecstasy over the bargains to be had inside the store. Wow! What a country.

Now I enjoy the consumer society as much as the next person. What could be better than being able to buy every electronic toy, every glad rag, every ludicrously sweet and gummy riff on a cup of coffee the human mind can conceive in every city, town, and wide spot in the road? And yeah, I know it’s unAmerican to resist (not to say futile). But here’s my problem with consumerism as the driving force of an economy:

It’s fake.

It doesn’t DO anything. It’s hollow. It’s empty. It’s a STIFF PARROT. Dependence on buying as a major engine—possibly the main engine—in our country’s economy means that we depend on hot air. On nothing. Why? Because we’re producing less and less. Try to buy something that’s made in America—go ahead: try to find a baby’s crib manufactured in this country. Read the label on a package of hamburger: the mashed meat you’re buying came from Mexico and Canada, with maybe a little coming from the U.S. Americans aren’t doing anything productive.

Oh, you say: but we’re all doing brain work. That’s why we need such a highly educated workforce.

Ever notice how many young people with solid degrees from excellent universities are working in call centers or selling books and gewgaws at a Barnes & Noble?Ever actually looked at what goes on in high-rise office buildings? Not much.Most of the activity entails pushing paper, whether physically or electronically. Have we counted lately how many of our people spend their working lives answering telephones or pushing papers? Or selling stuff, most of it imported? Few of these jobs are highly paid, because few of them deserve to be highly paid. Because they produce nothing.

As the real estate bubble was blowing up, I recall wondering who all those houses were being sold to, and how. Most of the people buying new Styrofoam-and-plaster houses were already living in the Valley, in perfectly fine block homes in perfectly fine neighborhoods. They were being induced to take on huge mortgages to move (about once every three years, at one point) into cheaply built structures in elbow-to-elbow tracts. This was called “development.” Basically it was a form of churning. Nothing of much value was being built, and nothing that made our city better was happening.

Go out to Scottsdale, Arizona, and you’ll see mile on mile on mile of expensive homes, well beyond the means of a family with one middle-class earner and well beyond those of a family with two middle-class earners. Where, I used to wonder, was all that money coming from? The answer, as we all know now, was nowhere: it was make-believe money.

It was fake. Fake money generated through bad lending practices and paid for, all too often, with jobs that produce nothing.

We need to get back to making things. That cheap labor overseas to which we’ve outsourced our productivity is undermining our economy in more ways than simply making well paid blue-collar jobs extinct. It has sapped the intrinsic value of what we do for a living, and in doing so, it saps an important part of our people’s work ethic and, ultimately, our country’s ability to survive. Americans expect to earn more than slave wages for factory work. And a population that earns more is in a position to pay more. Over time, the off-shoring of productivity and the influx of cheap goods have meant that our real wages have dropped, because employers do not have to pay us as much to keep us happy (in a superficial way) and because the unions that used to keep our wages up have been mothballed. Prices have had to come down not because stuff is produced more cheaply overseas but because American workers couldn’t afford the products if they were manufactured by people who earned a fair wage.

America’s economy needs to be rebuilt. We need to structure our economy on production, not on paper-pushing, circularity, and sales commissions.