We've become a collection nation

By Eli Fishman

The stagnating economy has properly become a dominant consideration in virtually all decisions rendered by responsible individuals. When choosing potential acquisitions, pursuing employment alternatives or selecting leisure activities, financial concerns become particularly acute when resources have either become scarce or in anticipation of their growing scant.

The political hand-wringing over our economic plight tends to have a microcosmic focus. The plunging stock market, interest-rate levels, corporate malfeasance, governmental party affiliations and reform of taxation and political campaigns are some of the most discussed domestic issue. Though these current events impact the overall performance of our economy, their effect is relatively mild in comparison to the structural changes our capitalist system is experiencing.

During the past 25 years, the United States has lost millions of value-added manufacturing jobs. As consumers flocked to make low-cost purchases of imported apparel, footwear, electronics and other non-durable goods, American factories became gravestones dotting the landscape. Despite the abandonment of this segment of our economy, job opportunities increased.

Much of the job growth occurring through the late 1980s and 1990s was based on the creation of new information technology. This consisted of freshly contrived financial trading instruments and markets, such as the options and expanded commodity exchanges. Banking artifices were developed, including swaps, repos, leveraged purchases, mergers and an infinite variety of fee-generating nuances. Finally, there was the introduction of the Internet and all of its possibilities.

The irrational exuberance that erupted from these constructions spawned an engine with seemingly limitless horizons. While the stock market roared, discharging carloads of glitter, enterprises large and small sought new means to create their own faux wealth. The machinations of multibillion-dollar enterprises have been well-documented.

There was something for the little guy too: eBay. Virtually everything ever produced, regardless of intrinsic value or lack thereof, could be aggregated within some fabricated genus. Barbie dolls, outdated medical texts, ashtrays, posters, magazines -- you name it -- were categorized and hoarded like diamonds or gold. Literally tens of millions of transactions were consummated over short time periods.

However, whether one collects technology stock options or Star Trek memorabilia, the respective values are at best ephemeral. Under the rubric of information technology, collecting has created perceptions of added value where none actually exists. Presumably, owning random objects or portfolio items does not carry the weight of a collector of articles within an identifiable phylum.

eBay and innumerable middlemen associated with it operate profitably in this nether world economy, not unlike the financial institutions servicing collectors of capital accouterments. Thousands of individuals use their guile to smooth the uncertainty existing in all types of collector trades.

Thus, we have invented a new economic model based on the activities of collectors. The question is how to build a sustainable economy on the vigor generated from transacting items with pretend values. I hope someone has an answer. I sure don't.

Eli Fishman of Cape Girardeau is the owner of Cape Shoe Co.