Vũ Đàm Linh
(Mazerlin)
New Member
Some of you have fallen in love with economics
, but do not know where to start. I hope you will learn some basic concepts of economics in this lesson. You may have drowned in the ocean of economic materials on the Internet and in textbooks (me too). When I had to prepare for NTU entrance exam, I searched all around the Net saving many notes but so terrified by them :-& that I decided to read these chapters only. It is really helpful for those who have been scared by heaps of economic concepts, formulae and graphs.
Welcome more lessons for newbies
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Chapter One: The Professor
Except for four years of college and an occasional daydream, Tyler Martin had spent the bulk of his twenty-one years of existence wandering through what university-folk off-handedly refer to as the 'real world.' His two decades of experience gave Tyler Martin the confidence to identify this 'real world' whenever or wherever it might appear. Tyler reached the inescapable conclusion that THIS was NOT the real world. Tyler Martin was quite confident, quite emphatic in fact, that he was NOT in the 'real world.'
The dreariest, bleariest, dankest of overcast twilight late-autumn evenings was no match for the eerie darkness that enveloped him. Perhaps the cause of the eeriness was the glow of dull green light. Or maybe Tyler's overwhelming sense of an unearthly environment came from the overwhelmingly, unearthly environment. The dense foliage that surrounded him appeared to be the creation of an unbalanced biologist playing a hideous practical joke on mother nature.
The highlight of this forest-like flora was a preponderance of towering, tree-like plants with yellow trunks and broad red leaves. The expansive red leaves were fashioned at the top of each 'tree' like an opened umbrella. 'Umbrella trees' was the obvious thought for anyone raised in the sheltered confines of 'the real world.' Interspersed with these majestic umbrella trees were a myriad of smaller yellow plants with red-orange leaves folded like adolescent closed umbrellas awaiting their opportunity to attain legal, regal adulthood.
The green glow permeating the foliage was especially eerie as it flickered off the underside of the canopy formed by the tops of the full-grown umbrellas. This covering, like a distraught circus tent, formed a protective shield to the brilliant pink sky that managed a few curious peeks through infrequent gaps. One small crack in this umbrella canopy, where 'real world' citizens might have expected a normal yellow sun, showed the presence of a dazzling blue circle of light.
An immeasurably small fraction of this radiant blue light made its way through the umbrella shield, through the dense foliage, and down to the base of the smooth, yellow trunks were it conspired with the incessant green glow to tickle the tops of a thick, red, invitingly soft, layer of carpet-like grass.
Intermixed with the youthful, folded umbrella plants and protruding haphazardly from the otherwise smooth layer of red, carpet-like grass were the apparent sources of the green luminescence. Jutting from clumps of what would otherwise pass as normal, knee high, brush (if not for the distinctive turquoise hue) were thick stalks of varying lengths that shone with a brilliant green radiance. These glowing sticks and their turquoise nests were most noticeable along a narrow strip of orange dirt that formed a narrow path through the bizarre foliage.
This accented strip of orange was also where Tyler Martin found his face. He laid motionless on the dirt, blowing puffs of orange dust into the air as he tried to breathe. This was one heck of a way to earn extra credit.
Tyler rolled to an awkward sitting position and plucked his smudged glasses from the orange dirt. He searched in vain for a dirt-free spot on his shirt that might serve as cleaning rag. His blurred, nearsighted vision, however, amplified this grotesque environment and convinced him to abandoned his search. He blew as much dust as possible from his spectacles, and restored them to their accustomed position. He then tried to brush the thin, penetrating layer of dust from his clothes. This attempt was equally futile, but it gave him time to collect his thoughts. Sitting in the ominous twilight of this macabre world, memory of recent events began to trickle into his brain.
Little more than twenty minutes had passed since Tyler had begun a trek, seldom undertaken by mortal students, down ancient halls and up darkened stairs to the office occupied by Professor Francis. Documented testimonials skirting about the student body of Western State University purported, on the highest authority, that Professor John Francis ate inquisitive students then mounted their heads in a trophy case. It was quite a collection, so they said, accumulated over the centuries by this enigmatic economics professor. Tyler was somewhat wary of this last bit of folklore, recalling vaguely that the formal study of economics had been around only since the late 1700s.
Unfortunately, the obscure notion of some guy named Adam Smith writing something about wealth that marked the origination of economics in the late 18th century was about the only bit of economics that Tyler could recollect. This was most unfortunate given the final examination for the course was a mere five days away.
Tyler needed help!
That's why this normally introverted senior braved the seemingly impenetrable barrier of intimidating rumors for a visit to Professor Francis.
Professor Francis was a tall, thin, elderly man, with more scalp showing on his head than most men would have liked. His face was dark, lined, and creviced with shadows. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and deeply set in his head, an impression reinforced by his long, curved nose. This was not the matinee idol of star struck teenaged girls, but rather the horrific vision brought to late night slumbers by spicy foods and a ghastly imagination.
Tyler adjusted his perpetually skewed glasses and knocked hesitantly on the frame of the opened doorway. The figure of his first, and probably last, economics professor could be clearly seen a few feet away, seated behind an aged wooden desk, head bowed over a scholarly book, and eyes fixed to its yellowed pages. Without a discernible motion of his head, Professor Francis made a decisive motion with his hand for Tyler to enter and be seated. Uneasily, Tyler edged into the office, setting his books on one of two available chairs. After two unsuccessful tries, he placed his posterior in the other.
Still without head movement, the professor asked in his resonant voice, "What can I do for you, Mr. Martin?"
Taken aback that the professor knew his name, Tyler began to fumble through his notebook. As he fumbled he said, "I... uh... have some uh... questions about uhm... class. I um... uh... I don't seem to get what we're doing."
Professor Francis raised his head a full one-quarter of an inch, clearly distracted from his previous affairs. He said emotionlessly, "You should have withdrawn weeks ago."
"Oh... uh..." Tyler, caught off guard, stammered, "I... uh... don't want to drop the course. I... um... just don't uhm... seem to understand what economics is all about. I mean, I uh... sort of understand, but I don't really understand. Do you know what I mean?"
"Well, Tyler," the professor asked, raising his head and moving his gaze slowly toward the intimidated student, "Please tell me what it is that you do not understand. Tell me exactly what you would like to know."
"Let's uhm... see," Tyler said, still searching for an intelligent question buried in his notes. He quickly became frustrated, then said, "I... uh... I just don't understand what it means. I don't understand economics."
"The beginning," the professor rumbled in his baritone voice. Then nodding towards Tyler's notebook, he said, "The definition of economics. The one I gave the first day of class."
Once again Tyler fumbled with his notebook, finally finding the page with the definition. "Yes," he said, "it's right here."
The professor paused for a long moment, fixing his glare on Tyler, then calmly spoke, "Well... what does it say?"
"Oh..." Tyler looked up at the professor then down at his notes. "It says that... let's see... uh... okay... 'Economics studies the allocation of scarce resources in the production of goods and services used to satisfy unlimited wants and needs.'" Tyler looked up with a blank expression.
"There you have it--that is economics," the professor said with a flip of his had, as he dropped his head and returned attention to his book.
The blank expression never left Tyler's face. "I know what it says, I just don't get it."
The professor raised his head once again, clearly annoyed. He thought for a moment. Finally he asked, "Do you have brothers? Or sisters?"
"Yes," Tyler responded, somewhat confused, "one brother and two sisters. But...?"
"And I presume that your family would frequently sit down for a large meal? Perhaps a Sunday dinner?" the professor continued.
"Sure," Tyler nodded, "Mom would fry up a chicken, with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob."
The professor's lips bent into a knowing, but somewhat sinister smile. Tyler felt as though he had just been trapped in a spider's web.
"You preferred the dark meat of the chicken, the drumsticks in particular," the professor continued the inquisition.
Tyler nodded, then said, "Yeah, but I usually ended up with the back, maybe a wing if I was lucky. My older brother, and my sisters, all liked drumsticks." A trace of sibling jealousy was easily detected in his voice. "In fact, everyone in my family liked the drumsticks. But, I don't see..."
"Then let me ask you--did everyone eat drumsticks, and if not, why not?" the professor queried.
"Aw, come on professor," Tyler said with a surprisingly brave smile, "a chicken has only two drumsticks,"
"Then why not buy more chickens?" the professor prodded.
"We couldn't afford it," Tyler responded with no apologies. "I mean we weren't poor, but we weren't exactly rich, either."
The professor returned his eyes, for what he hoped to be the final time, to the yellowed pages of his book as he said, "That, Mr. Martin, is economics."
"What?" Tyler asked, "fried chicken?"
"Yes, Tyler," the professor answered forcefully without looking up. "Fried chicken is a good, just like thousands of other goods in the economy. It is a scarce good, because a limited amount is available. But the limited availability is only half of the problem. The other is the amount that people want. In your family everyone wanted drumsticks. In fact, your family wanted more drumsticks than available from one chicken. The limited quantity meant your family could not get all that it wanted."
Tyler nodded in agreement as he stared at the professor's thinning hair.
The agitated professor, eyes still fixed to his book, continued, "How did you decide who received the drumsticks?"
Tyler smiled angrily at the top of the professor's head, "I was the youngest, I got what was left over."
The thin, sinister smile returned to the professor's lips, "There was a better way?"
"Why sure," Tyler said preparing to answer a question he had obviously pondered many times before. "We should have taken turns getting the drumsticks. I mean, there's no reason why my brother always got first pick."
"In fact," the professor nodded slightly, "there were many ways to allocate chicken parts among your family."
Tyler marveled at the manner in which the professor had so easily slipped the term 'allocate' into the conversation.
"That is economics," the professor concluded. "Like your family, the world has a limited number of goods. However, the desire for those goods is unlimited. Everyone wants the drumsticks. These goods must be divided among those who want them."
"So, economics decides who gets the stuff?" Tyler jumped in, trying to get into the flow of the professor's impromptu lecture.
"Not quite," the professor scolded, his head still poised over his work. "The decisions are made by people, governments, and businesses, not by economists. Economics is merely the study of how and why those decisions are made. Economics examines how goods are allocated."
The degree of understanding that Tyler thought he had, quickly vanished. "I don't know professor. There's so much to understand. Scarcity, resources, goods, allocation. It just doesn't make sense. I mean, I read definitions and I think I understand, but then I don't. I don't think I can take the final exam next week."
Professor Francis jerked his head up, his penetrating glare quickly deflating the minimal confidence that had been building within Tyler.
"Uhm... is there... uh... any way I can do... uhm... maybe... uh... some extra credit," Tyler proposed, erroneously thinking that the professor would be enthralled by his interest in going above and beyond course requirements.
"EXTRA CREDIT!!" the intimidating professor bellowed. Bookshelves rattled, walls vibrated, and papers fluttered through the air--all equally frightened by the sound of his voice.
Professor Francis rose to his feet, walked briskly around his desk, and stopped at a bookshelf directly behind Tyler. Tyler winched as he felt the professor's presence. On his way to the bookshelf, Professor Francis kicked the office door shut with his foot. The closed door changed the atmosphere in the office from merely ominous to life threatening. It grew darker and quieter as the light and sound from the hallway were abated. This atmosphere gave the professor an appearance more foreboding than anything seen in class. Tyler's stomach grew queasy as he imagined the professor sinking sharp teeth into the flesh of a senior's unprotected appendage.
"You want extra credit, do you Tyler? I will give you that chance. I will give you a special lesson, a very special lesson. A lesson that you will never forget!" The professor began to laugh softly as he pulled a tattered book from the shelf. It was an old leather-bound volume, mangled about the corners, with thick brownish pages showing signs of a long life.
Tyler felt apprehensive--what with his life hanging in the balance and all--but at the same time honored.
"I will teach you economics in a way that few have learned it before," the professor said, his voice becoming increasingly deeper and more foreboding.
The professor opened his book and mumbled some words that were foreign to Tyler's ears. As he uttered the sounds, Tyler grew lightheaded. His knees trembled and he fell from his chair to the floor. His head spun as he lay crumpled on the cold tile of the floor. For a long, excruciating instant his body lost touch with reality and substance. For an instant there was nothing....
Then there was orange dirt. He found himself, perplexed but alive, on the narrow strip of orange dirt, in the eerie twilight of a multi-colored forest. As his grogginess began to fade, so too did his wide-eyed wonderment over the unbounded weirdness surrounding him. His bewilderment was quickly replaced with the sheer fright induced by often told stories of a flesh-eating economics professor. Tyler jumped to his feet.
"PROFESSOR FRANCIS!!!" he screamed in a voice that would itself curdle blood. His horror was met with nothing but silence. He cried out again, louder and more terrorized, if such was possible.
On weak, trembling legs, Tyler nervously tried once more to clean his grimy glasses, as if such action would negate all that had happened in the preceding twenty minutes.
With glasses askew but in place, and after acknowledging that hopes of rewinding past events were futile, he sucked a quivering breath into his lungs. He reexamined his surroundings. He was standing on a path--a peculiar path leading in only one direction. Tyler was surrounded on three sides by the red carpet of grass; the yellow trunks of the umbrella trees; and the green, glowing, stick plants protruding from clumps of turquoise brush. The orange path lead only to the front. 'Why just one direction?' he bounced the thought inside his head.
As he did, an ear-splitting voice, emanating from everywhere, yet coming from nowhere, spoke, "That path, Tyler, will lead you to economic understanding. There is only one direction."
Tyler recognized the menacing voice of Professor Francis.
"WHERE AM I PROFESSOR?" Tyler screamed.
"You will receive a lesson in economics unlike few others. All you have to do is follow the path. The signs will tell you where to go. THIS is your EXTRA CREDIT, Mr. Martin."
"But, I don't want any extra credit. I changed my mind. I don't want a lesson. I don't want to follow the path. I want to go home," Tyler screamed out. "I understand economics now. Really, I do. It's like fried chicken." He pleaded.
His pleas were useless. The professor was gone.
Chapter Two: A Kind, Loving Instructor
It was quite clear to Tyler that Professor Francis had some torturous fate in store for him. Tyler was undoubtedly being prepared for a cannibalistic feast. He expected the professor to appear at any moment with carving knife and bib.
To prepare for this certainty, Tyler huddled childlike in a ball on the orange path, clutching legs with arms and burying face in knees. This position was obviously designed to ward off ferocious attack by professor or beastly being.
Much to Tyler's surprise, several long moments passed without any sign of a flesh-hungry professor. Perhaps the Western State rumors were not totally accurate. Perhaps the professor did not personally eat inquisitive students, but only sent them into the deadly jaws of a gruesome creature--probably a man-eating dragon. More long moments passed as Tyler huddled in his protective crouch without the serious loss of appendages.
Tyler's amazing survival ability not only gave him confidence, it gave him time to think. His defensive strategy, while clearly fruitful to this point, did not seem to be a viable long-term solution. It was time to be more assertive. An annoying thought also crept into Tyler's mind. Professor Francis might not be interested in gnawing on his bones and placing his head in a trophy case. Maybe, just maybe, this was, as the professor had said, some sort of way to learn economics.
'Follow the path,' the professor had instructed. As more long moments passed, Tyler realized that he had no other options. Professor Francis could probably devour him whenever and wherever he chose.
Tyler slowly uncurled from his defensive ball and rose to his feet. He began what he hoped to be a short trip along the dusty, orange path. He had no idea where he was going. He still was not clear as to why. He was only sure of one thing, the professor had something in store. Tyler truly hoped that it was economics, and not a man-eating dragon.
Tyler had convinced his legs to carry him only a few steps down the path when he heard a faint animal-like sound in the trees to his right. He stopped, breathless and motionless, staring in the direction of the sound. This was clearly the end to life as he knew it. He expected to see a man-eating dragon burst from the dense foliage at any moment.
When a sudden flutter came from the trees, Tyler threw his hands over his head and fell to the orange dirt.
But he remained alive.
He uncovered his head slowly for a peak at the monster that was certainly preparing to gorge on his flesh and gnaw mercilessly on his bones. Perched on one of the glowing green stick plants that jutted from a clump of turquoise brush was the strangest looking creature Tyler had ever seen. It had the unmistakable body of a large, green frog and the face of what appeared to be a calico cat. Protruding from the cat's snot, however, was an orange, duck-shaped beak. This bird theme was also exhibited by the brown feather-covered wings folded beside its frog body, and a fluffy, feathery plume protruding from the top of its head. As it perched on the green plant, looking directly at Tyler, its throat enlarged, emitting a frog-like 'croak', and its wings stretched to a full two-foot span. This hodge-podge of a creature then tucked its wings back along its body and settled onto its perch. The green glow of the stick-plant perch did nothing to eliminate this creature's sinister appearance.
Tyler and the flying duck-billed, frog-cat creature stared motionless at each other for several moments. Then, as if bored by the encounter, the bird- frog blinked its eyes and looked away. A moment later it flapped its wings and sprang into flight, finding another perch, beyond Tyler's view deeper into the foliage.
Relief swept over Tyler as he rose cautiously to his feet and once again tried in vain to brush the orange dirt from his clothes. While he was thankful that his flesh was still connected to his bones, this encounter did nothing to eliminate his apprehensions. He wanted to scream for the professor. He wanted to go home.
Tyler, however, was coming to the realization that the only way to get home was to move along this winding, orange path--probably the quicker the better. He turned away from the spot the strange flying duck-cat creature had entered the dense foliage and continued his trek. As he walked his eyes grew more adjusted to the green twilight. Tyler was still trembling several steps later when he saw a rectangular purple object tacked to the smooth, yellow trunk of a small umbrella tree next to the path a few yards ahead. As he cautiously approached, he saw that the purple object was a sign. Tyler recalled the professor saying 'follow the signs.' This must be one of them. Tyler hoped the sign would lead him safely out of this strange place. The sign was simple, and seem to need no explanation. It read:
ECONOMICS
Test #1
100 meters
A TEST!
This notion of a test changed things. The thought of a test under normal circumstances twisted Tyler's stomach into a knot. Exams given by Professor Francis were the worst of the lot. Most students, Tyler included, left the professor's exams questioning not only the decision to take economics, but also their birth. The thought of a test here, in this bizarre place, amid yellow, umbrella-shaped trees and strange flying frog-cats, could be anything. Tyler envisioned a test pitting man against beast, with only the victor walking free. As he walked ever so slowly along the path, each test Tyler envisioned ended with his bloodied body being gnawed by monsters with unspeakably hideous features. With no other option at hand, he slowly, quietly, walked onward.
Rounding yet another of the bends in the path, Tyler saw movement through the trunks of the umbrella trees a short distance ahead. He adjusted his dirty glasses, but failed to determine what it was that moved. As he grew closer he thought he could see a small creature of some sort. Perhaps it was rabbit, or a wild dog. Yes, it seemed to have long ears, like a rabbit, but it was larger than any rabbit he had every seen. Then it became clear that the creature was standing upright and wearing clothes. Clothes! This creature was wearing bright green clothes. This observation reduced Tyler's anxiety a little. But only a little. Wild, ferocious, student-gnawing creatures certainly did not wear green clothing. In any case, Tyler remained on guard. Clothes or no clothes, the vision of his bloodied body persisted.
When Tyler had quietly moved to within a few yards of this green-clad, long-eared creature, he saw that it looked more like a human than a rabbit, even though it was a trifle small. At its full height this creature would stand only waist high to Tyler. Tyler studied the creature further, concluding that it more closely resembled a monkey that a human. With the exception of a prominent human-shaped nose, this creature looked like a monkey with long pointed ears. But even with it's human-like qualities, it's ears were definitely long and pointed. The green clothes covered most of the creatures body, with only a bit of light, fluffy, grey fur protruding from the openings of the sleeves and trouser legs.
Tyler came to a crouching stop, near the yellow trunk of an umbrella tree, thinking that the creature was unaware of his presence. That was one, but only one, of the reasons why Tyler was startled when the creature spoke.
"Ah, Mr. Martin," the creature said without looking up, somewhat reminiscent of Professor Francis.
Tyler remained motionless for a very long moment, all but hoping the creature had been talking to another Mr. Martin. When the creature spoke again Tyler felt like the proverbial child caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
"I have been waiting for you, Mr. Martin. Professor Francis said that you would be along."
Tyler nodded slightly, at last showing an admission of his existence.
"We must get started," the furry creature said. "We have much to cover and I have a great deal of work yet to do."
Tyler was still several feet away from the creature, completely awed by the happenings. He attempted what might have passed for intelligence speech at another time, "I... uh... what... what's going on here?"
"We have no time for questions," he motioned for Tyler to move closer. "Come here. Mr. Martin. We must get on with this. You have a great deal to learn."
"But what... who are you?" Tyler persisted.
"Please, please, Mr. Martin, we really no have time for your questions."
When Tyler failed to budge the creature resigned to at least a brief explanation.
"You are here to learn economics, are you not, Mr. Martin?"
Tyler nodded reflexively.
"Well, I am here to help you learn."
Tyler started to nod once again in his trance-like state, but caught himself and said, "But who are you and where is here?"
"Oh, very well," the creature sighed. "I really wish they would give you students a better orientation. I am your instructor, and you are in Leornia. You have come to Leornia to learn. That is the reason for Leornia, to learn."
Tyler nodded again, somewhat relieved by the explanation and took a step towards the self-proclaimed instructor. He stopped, however, upon realizing that he knew only slightly more after the explanation than he did before.
"Well, where is... uh... this Leornia?" he demanded.
The instructor was obviously disturbed by this departure from the intended subject matter. The instructor said, "I am not here to discuss the location of Leornia. I am here to test your knowledge of economics. Now, if you don't mind we really must begin."
"But," Tyler protested, "I don't want to learn economics. I just want to go home. There must be some mistake. You've got to let me go home."
The instructor produced a clipboard from behind his back, then said, "No, there is no mistake. You are Tyler Martin, are you not? You are a student of Professor Francis at Western State University?"
Tyler nodded in agreement.
"Then there is no mistake," the instructor said allowing no room for debate. "Now, please. We must get on with your lesson."
Tyler realized further protests on his part would be pointless. He did, however, remain partially hidden behind the yellow trunk of the umbrella tree, clinging to it like a security blanket.
The instructor waited momentarily for Tyler to come closer, to the proper position, for the examination. When he realized this would not happen he turned his attention once again to the clipboard he held in his furry paws. He studied it for a moment, then looked up at Tyler.
"Now I have some questions for you. Mr. Martin. You must try to answer them to the best of your ability. These questions constitute the first phase of your test."
The instructor looked at his clipboard again, still apparently annoyed by Tyler's position next to the tree. Finally the instructor said, "Mr. Martin, would you please come over here so I can properly administer this exam."
Tyler shook his head and did not move.
The instructor sighed.
"Very well Mr. Martin, here is the first question. 'If you could have anything in the world to make you completely satisfied, what would it be?'"
Tyler paused, obviously bewildered. "That's it?" he asked, "That's the question?"
"Yes it is, Mr. Martin. What is your answer?"
"Are you sure that's the question?"
The instructor nodded.
Tyler's apprehensions faded. He thought about the question. It was a surprisingly easy question. Tyler chuckled slightly as he felt a great burden lifted from him. With the strangeness that had been thrust upon him in the past hour he had expected, at the very least, a life-threatening question. A question that might deal with the very essence of life and economics. Yet, this question seemed so simple. Tyler began to laugh aloud. 'What would make me completely satisfied?' he pondered.
Tyler considered the question for a moment. He was starting to become quite hungry. A cheeseburger and cola would taste great. Or perhaps a pizza. But, then he mentally laughed at this trivial response.
"What would make me completely satisfied," Tyler asked to clarify the question.
A cheeseburger and cola would taste good, but it would not satisfy him completely. He decided to go for the ultimate. A brand new Porsche, that would be the ultimate. Or maybe a cruise around the world, and a private estate on a tropical island? Then, as if on cue, a thousand items began passing through his head. A thousand items that Tyler wanted. But the more he thought about each, the more he realized that none alone, nor even all of them together, would satisfy him.
Sweat beads began to form on Tyler's forehead as he recognized the life-ending possibilities that might come with no answer. He finally said, "I can't think of anything that would make me completely satisfied?"
"Nothing?" the instructor queried cautiously.
"Yes, nothing," Tyler said feeling defeated and resigning himself to whatever fate may await him. "There are so many things that I would like to have. But, there is nothing that would make me completely satisfied."
"Nothing?" the instructor asked a second time for absolute clarity.
"Yes, nothing," Tyler said bitterly.
"That is the correct answer, Mr. Martin," the instructor said marking on his clipboard.
"What?... I don't get it?" Tyler said. "What do you mean that's the correct answer? I didn't give you an answer."
"Oh, but you did. And it was correct. There is nothing that will make you completely satisfied. Perhaps you may be content for a short period, but you can never be completely satisfied. There is always more that you will want. And as you suspected, that question actually did deal with the very essence of life and economics."
Tyler was relieved, but puzzled. He accepted the instructor's decision without further discussion.
"Now for your second question, Mr. Martin." The instructor looked once more at his clipboard, and asked, "What are scarce resources?"
Tyler envisioned the professor standing in front of class talking about scarce resources. Surprising himself, Tyler realized that he recalled some of the professor's lecture.
"I know what they are," Tyler said with limited confidence. "Let me see, scarce resources, which are often called factors of production, can be classified as capital, like factories and machinery--that's one. Another scarce resource is land, which is all of the raw materials, minerals, vegetation, and other things that naturally occur on the land. And a third is..." Tyler stopped for a moment and thought. He knew there was a third. But what was it?
'There was capital, and land,' he thought, mentally checking off each. There was another one. He could remember the professor listing the scarce resources on the chalkboard.
"LABOR!" he finally blurted out as it came to him. "Labor is the third resource." He felt very proud of himself. "Labor is a scarce resource because it takes people to operate the machinery." Then he added hastily, "And sometimes entrepreneurship is considered as a separate resource. Entrepreneurship is a special type of human effort that takes on the risk and responsibility of bringing the labor, capital, and land together to make stuff."
"That is a satisfactory answer, Mr. Martin," the furry instructor said, showing no sign of being impressed with Tyler's response.
Tyler's confidence was growing by the moment. His correct responses to the instructor's first two questions gave Tyler the feeling that he could answer any economic question posed. Yes, Tyler knew it all.
Then the instructor examined his clipboard once again.
"You have identified the scarce resources," he said, "now tell me why they are scarce. What is scarcity, Mr. Martin?"
"Scarcity?" Tyler asked. "What do you mean scarcity? Land, capital and labor are scarce. They're scarce resources."
"We have established that they are scarce resources, Mr. Martin. You must now tell me why they are scarce," the instructor persisted.
"Why?" Tyler repeated. He did not recall the professor saying why the resources were scarce. Perhaps Tyler missed it when he was talking to Lisa Catchings about the Thetas' all-weekend pool and pajama party. Yes, of course, that must have been the day the professor had talked about scarcity.
The seconds ticked away. Even though a clock was nowhere around, Tyler could still sense the seconds, then minutes, quickly pass. Tyler felt the time grow long. Sweat reappeared on his forehead. 'Scarcity,' he thought, 'what is scarcity?' Then he remembered the professor talking about scarcity in his office just moments before he was exiled to this land of weirdness. What had the professor said about scarcity? It had something to do with fried chicken.
"We have little time, Mr. Martin," the instructor prodded, interrupting and destroying what little concentration Tyler had remaining.
The sweat on his forehead became more profuse. His palms grew wet and his mouth grew dry. His glasses began to slip annoyingly down his nose. His grip tightened around the yellow trunk of the umbrella tree. He could no longer concentrate on scarcity. All that came to his mind was the vision of hideous monsters lurking just off the path, waiting to pounced at his incorrect answer. Tyler thought he saw a movement off to his left. He jumped abruptly. No, not a monster, just that flying frog-cat that he had seen earlier coming to rest a green stick plant. Perhaps the frog-cat was preparing for an attack. Tyler noted how much that flying bird-frog-cat creature sort of resembled a small dragon.
Finally Tyler said, "I don't know the answer. I don't know what scarcity is. It has something to do with fried chicken. But I can't remember what."
"Are you certain t hat you do not know the answer?" the instructor asked.
Tyler shook his head. He then closed his eyes, covered his head with his hands, and pressed closer to the yellow trunk, waiting for the attack. But none came.
"Very well, if you don't know, then I guess you don't know," the instructor said as he reluctantly marked on his clipboard.
Tyler opened his eyes and gave a mental sigh. "What will happened to me?" Tyler asked, not certain that he really wanted to know.
Once again the instructor looked at his clipboard, and nodded. He returned shortly, dragging a large, purple bag along the red carpet-grass. The bag was about three times the size of a grocery sack--almost as big as the instructor--and closed at the top with a short, purple strap. The instructor struggled as he drug the bag across the orange path to where Tyler clung to the tree. Tyler began to back away.
The instructor left the bag within Tyler's reach and disappeared into the trees once again. He quickly returned, dragging a second purple bag almost identical to the first. He pushed the second bag next to the first.
"What is this?" Tyler asked hesitantly.
"Jewels," the instructor answered.
"What?!," Tyler was dumfounded. "I don't understand."
"Yes," the instructor continued, "there are diamonds, rubies, several very large emeralds, and I believe the first bag even includes some pearls, if I'm not mistaken." The instructor eyed the first bag setting on the orange ground. "Yes, of course, pearls. These are yours to keep when you finish your lesson and leave Leornia. I understand that they are quite valuable in the your world."
"But," Tyler protested, "I answered the question wrong. Why did you give me jewels? There must be millions of dollars worth of stuff here."
"No time for explanations, Mr. Martin," the instructor said as he checked his clipboard again. "You have one final question to answer."
"But, I don't understand," Tyler said, a little hesitant to continue questioning his good fortune, but still very confused.
"You will understand, Mr. Martin. Very soon, you will understand," he said. "Now one more question..." When Tyler did not continue his previous line of inquiry, the instructor asked, "What is opportunity cost?"
By this time Tyler's thoughts were several million dollars away from economics. He vaguely remembered the professor saying something about opportunity cost. But now he had two bags filled with valuable jewels. These jewels had to be worth millions, maybe billions, of dollars. He could have anything in the world that he every wanted. No, he could have everything in the world that he wanted. Then Tyler recalled the instructor's first question. Perhaps not everything, but certainly he could have a lot. Tyler's mind raced through a wide assortment of sports cars, yachts, and other goods that could be bought with his new found wealth. He could hardly wait to tell Lisa Catchings and the Thetas. As his thoughts raced, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it was important to answer a question about opportunity cost. However, the front of his mind could go no further than the two bags of precious stones at his feet.
After a long, long moment of silence the instructor cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Martin, I am waiting for your answer. You have to give me answer before I can let you pass."
The thought of remaining on this path for an extended period of time brought Tyler's attention away from the two bags.
'Opportunity cost' he thought silently to himself.
"Yes, Mr. Martin," the instructor said, "Opportunity cost."
Tyler looked up at the creature. "What?... oh..." he said, not realizing he had been thinking aloud. "Um... yes... opportunity cost is..."
But he could not remember. It had something to do with giving up something, but what and why, he did not know. He finally confessed, "I don't remember about opportunity cost," and was ready to return one or both of the bags.
"I can see why the professor sent you," the instructor said as he made marks on his clipboard. "You need a great deal of help."
Tyler stood speechless. Then he asked, "Do I get another bag?" But as the words came from his mouth, he knew he had asked the wrong question.
"No, Mr. Martin," the furry guy said as he checked his clipboard, "You do not receive another bag, but you do get a bit of advice. There is very little food on your path. If you become hungry, and you will, you can safely eat the purple fruit that you will find beside the path. But let me warn you that there is no other food. You should take as much fruit with you as you can carry. The journey along the path is a long one. You will need the fruit to complete your lesson in Leornia."
"Purple fruit?" Tyler asked, once more confused.
But the instructor could not answer; he had scampered into the trees and out of sight.
, but do not know where to start. I hope you will learn some basic concepts of economics in this lesson. You may have drowned in the ocean of economic materials on the Internet and in textbooks (me too). When I had to prepare for NTU entrance exam, I searched all around the Net saving many notes but so terrified by them :-& that I decided to read these chapters only. It is really helpful for those who have been scared by heaps of economic concepts, formulae and graphs.Welcome more lessons for newbies
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter One: The Professor
Except for four years of college and an occasional daydream, Tyler Martin had spent the bulk of his twenty-one years of existence wandering through what university-folk off-handedly refer to as the 'real world.' His two decades of experience gave Tyler Martin the confidence to identify this 'real world' whenever or wherever it might appear. Tyler reached the inescapable conclusion that THIS was NOT the real world. Tyler Martin was quite confident, quite emphatic in fact, that he was NOT in the 'real world.'
The dreariest, bleariest, dankest of overcast twilight late-autumn evenings was no match for the eerie darkness that enveloped him. Perhaps the cause of the eeriness was the glow of dull green light. Or maybe Tyler's overwhelming sense of an unearthly environment came from the overwhelmingly, unearthly environment. The dense foliage that surrounded him appeared to be the creation of an unbalanced biologist playing a hideous practical joke on mother nature.
The highlight of this forest-like flora was a preponderance of towering, tree-like plants with yellow trunks and broad red leaves. The expansive red leaves were fashioned at the top of each 'tree' like an opened umbrella. 'Umbrella trees' was the obvious thought for anyone raised in the sheltered confines of 'the real world.' Interspersed with these majestic umbrella trees were a myriad of smaller yellow plants with red-orange leaves folded like adolescent closed umbrellas awaiting their opportunity to attain legal, regal adulthood.
The green glow permeating the foliage was especially eerie as it flickered off the underside of the canopy formed by the tops of the full-grown umbrellas. This covering, like a distraught circus tent, formed a protective shield to the brilliant pink sky that managed a few curious peeks through infrequent gaps. One small crack in this umbrella canopy, where 'real world' citizens might have expected a normal yellow sun, showed the presence of a dazzling blue circle of light.
An immeasurably small fraction of this radiant blue light made its way through the umbrella shield, through the dense foliage, and down to the base of the smooth, yellow trunks were it conspired with the incessant green glow to tickle the tops of a thick, red, invitingly soft, layer of carpet-like grass.
Intermixed with the youthful, folded umbrella plants and protruding haphazardly from the otherwise smooth layer of red, carpet-like grass were the apparent sources of the green luminescence. Jutting from clumps of what would otherwise pass as normal, knee high, brush (if not for the distinctive turquoise hue) were thick stalks of varying lengths that shone with a brilliant green radiance. These glowing sticks and their turquoise nests were most noticeable along a narrow strip of orange dirt that formed a narrow path through the bizarre foliage.
This accented strip of orange was also where Tyler Martin found his face. He laid motionless on the dirt, blowing puffs of orange dust into the air as he tried to breathe. This was one heck of a way to earn extra credit.
Tyler rolled to an awkward sitting position and plucked his smudged glasses from the orange dirt. He searched in vain for a dirt-free spot on his shirt that might serve as cleaning rag. His blurred, nearsighted vision, however, amplified this grotesque environment and convinced him to abandoned his search. He blew as much dust as possible from his spectacles, and restored them to their accustomed position. He then tried to brush the thin, penetrating layer of dust from his clothes. This attempt was equally futile, but it gave him time to collect his thoughts. Sitting in the ominous twilight of this macabre world, memory of recent events began to trickle into his brain.
Little more than twenty minutes had passed since Tyler had begun a trek, seldom undertaken by mortal students, down ancient halls and up darkened stairs to the office occupied by Professor Francis. Documented testimonials skirting about the student body of Western State University purported, on the highest authority, that Professor John Francis ate inquisitive students then mounted their heads in a trophy case. It was quite a collection, so they said, accumulated over the centuries by this enigmatic economics professor. Tyler was somewhat wary of this last bit of folklore, recalling vaguely that the formal study of economics had been around only since the late 1700s.
Unfortunately, the obscure notion of some guy named Adam Smith writing something about wealth that marked the origination of economics in the late 18th century was about the only bit of economics that Tyler could recollect. This was most unfortunate given the final examination for the course was a mere five days away.
Tyler needed help!
That's why this normally introverted senior braved the seemingly impenetrable barrier of intimidating rumors for a visit to Professor Francis.
Professor Francis was a tall, thin, elderly man, with more scalp showing on his head than most men would have liked. His face was dark, lined, and creviced with shadows. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and deeply set in his head, an impression reinforced by his long, curved nose. This was not the matinee idol of star struck teenaged girls, but rather the horrific vision brought to late night slumbers by spicy foods and a ghastly imagination.
Tyler adjusted his perpetually skewed glasses and knocked hesitantly on the frame of the opened doorway. The figure of his first, and probably last, economics professor could be clearly seen a few feet away, seated behind an aged wooden desk, head bowed over a scholarly book, and eyes fixed to its yellowed pages. Without a discernible motion of his head, Professor Francis made a decisive motion with his hand for Tyler to enter and be seated. Uneasily, Tyler edged into the office, setting his books on one of two available chairs. After two unsuccessful tries, he placed his posterior in the other.
Still without head movement, the professor asked in his resonant voice, "What can I do for you, Mr. Martin?"
Taken aback that the professor knew his name, Tyler began to fumble through his notebook. As he fumbled he said, "I... uh... have some uh... questions about uhm... class. I um... uh... I don't seem to get what we're doing."
Professor Francis raised his head a full one-quarter of an inch, clearly distracted from his previous affairs. He said emotionlessly, "You should have withdrawn weeks ago."
"Oh... uh..." Tyler, caught off guard, stammered, "I... uh... don't want to drop the course. I... um... just don't uhm... seem to understand what economics is all about. I mean, I uh... sort of understand, but I don't really understand. Do you know what I mean?"
"Well, Tyler," the professor asked, raising his head and moving his gaze slowly toward the intimidated student, "Please tell me what it is that you do not understand. Tell me exactly what you would like to know."
"Let's uhm... see," Tyler said, still searching for an intelligent question buried in his notes. He quickly became frustrated, then said, "I... uh... I just don't understand what it means. I don't understand economics."
"The beginning," the professor rumbled in his baritone voice. Then nodding towards Tyler's notebook, he said, "The definition of economics. The one I gave the first day of class."
Once again Tyler fumbled with his notebook, finally finding the page with the definition. "Yes," he said, "it's right here."
The professor paused for a long moment, fixing his glare on Tyler, then calmly spoke, "Well... what does it say?"
"Oh..." Tyler looked up at the professor then down at his notes. "It says that... let's see... uh... okay... 'Economics studies the allocation of scarce resources in the production of goods and services used to satisfy unlimited wants and needs.'" Tyler looked up with a blank expression.
"There you have it--that is economics," the professor said with a flip of his had, as he dropped his head and returned attention to his book.
The blank expression never left Tyler's face. "I know what it says, I just don't get it."
The professor raised his head once again, clearly annoyed. He thought for a moment. Finally he asked, "Do you have brothers? Or sisters?"
"Yes," Tyler responded, somewhat confused, "one brother and two sisters. But...?"
"And I presume that your family would frequently sit down for a large meal? Perhaps a Sunday dinner?" the professor continued.
"Sure," Tyler nodded, "Mom would fry up a chicken, with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob."
The professor's lips bent into a knowing, but somewhat sinister smile. Tyler felt as though he had just been trapped in a spider's web.
"You preferred the dark meat of the chicken, the drumsticks in particular," the professor continued the inquisition.
Tyler nodded, then said, "Yeah, but I usually ended up with the back, maybe a wing if I was lucky. My older brother, and my sisters, all liked drumsticks." A trace of sibling jealousy was easily detected in his voice. "In fact, everyone in my family liked the drumsticks. But, I don't see..."
"Then let me ask you--did everyone eat drumsticks, and if not, why not?" the professor queried.
"Aw, come on professor," Tyler said with a surprisingly brave smile, "a chicken has only two drumsticks,"
"Then why not buy more chickens?" the professor prodded.
"We couldn't afford it," Tyler responded with no apologies. "I mean we weren't poor, but we weren't exactly rich, either."
The professor returned his eyes, for what he hoped to be the final time, to the yellowed pages of his book as he said, "That, Mr. Martin, is economics."
"What?" Tyler asked, "fried chicken?"
"Yes, Tyler," the professor answered forcefully without looking up. "Fried chicken is a good, just like thousands of other goods in the economy. It is a scarce good, because a limited amount is available. But the limited availability is only half of the problem. The other is the amount that people want. In your family everyone wanted drumsticks. In fact, your family wanted more drumsticks than available from one chicken. The limited quantity meant your family could not get all that it wanted."
Tyler nodded in agreement as he stared at the professor's thinning hair.
The agitated professor, eyes still fixed to his book, continued, "How did you decide who received the drumsticks?"
Tyler smiled angrily at the top of the professor's head, "I was the youngest, I got what was left over."
The thin, sinister smile returned to the professor's lips, "There was a better way?"
"Why sure," Tyler said preparing to answer a question he had obviously pondered many times before. "We should have taken turns getting the drumsticks. I mean, there's no reason why my brother always got first pick."
"In fact," the professor nodded slightly, "there were many ways to allocate chicken parts among your family."
Tyler marveled at the manner in which the professor had so easily slipped the term 'allocate' into the conversation.
"That is economics," the professor concluded. "Like your family, the world has a limited number of goods. However, the desire for those goods is unlimited. Everyone wants the drumsticks. These goods must be divided among those who want them."
"So, economics decides who gets the stuff?" Tyler jumped in, trying to get into the flow of the professor's impromptu lecture.
"Not quite," the professor scolded, his head still poised over his work. "The decisions are made by people, governments, and businesses, not by economists. Economics is merely the study of how and why those decisions are made. Economics examines how goods are allocated."
The degree of understanding that Tyler thought he had, quickly vanished. "I don't know professor. There's so much to understand. Scarcity, resources, goods, allocation. It just doesn't make sense. I mean, I read definitions and I think I understand, but then I don't. I don't think I can take the final exam next week."
Professor Francis jerked his head up, his penetrating glare quickly deflating the minimal confidence that had been building within Tyler.
"Uhm... is there... uh... any way I can do... uhm... maybe... uh... some extra credit," Tyler proposed, erroneously thinking that the professor would be enthralled by his interest in going above and beyond course requirements.
"EXTRA CREDIT!!" the intimidating professor bellowed. Bookshelves rattled, walls vibrated, and papers fluttered through the air--all equally frightened by the sound of his voice.
Professor Francis rose to his feet, walked briskly around his desk, and stopped at a bookshelf directly behind Tyler. Tyler winched as he felt the professor's presence. On his way to the bookshelf, Professor Francis kicked the office door shut with his foot. The closed door changed the atmosphere in the office from merely ominous to life threatening. It grew darker and quieter as the light and sound from the hallway were abated. This atmosphere gave the professor an appearance more foreboding than anything seen in class. Tyler's stomach grew queasy as he imagined the professor sinking sharp teeth into the flesh of a senior's unprotected appendage.
"You want extra credit, do you Tyler? I will give you that chance. I will give you a special lesson, a very special lesson. A lesson that you will never forget!" The professor began to laugh softly as he pulled a tattered book from the shelf. It was an old leather-bound volume, mangled about the corners, with thick brownish pages showing signs of a long life.
Tyler felt apprehensive--what with his life hanging in the balance and all--but at the same time honored.
"I will teach you economics in a way that few have learned it before," the professor said, his voice becoming increasingly deeper and more foreboding.
The professor opened his book and mumbled some words that were foreign to Tyler's ears. As he uttered the sounds, Tyler grew lightheaded. His knees trembled and he fell from his chair to the floor. His head spun as he lay crumpled on the cold tile of the floor. For a long, excruciating instant his body lost touch with reality and substance. For an instant there was nothing....
Then there was orange dirt. He found himself, perplexed but alive, on the narrow strip of orange dirt, in the eerie twilight of a multi-colored forest. As his grogginess began to fade, so too did his wide-eyed wonderment over the unbounded weirdness surrounding him. His bewilderment was quickly replaced with the sheer fright induced by often told stories of a flesh-eating economics professor. Tyler jumped to his feet.
"PROFESSOR FRANCIS!!!" he screamed in a voice that would itself curdle blood. His horror was met with nothing but silence. He cried out again, louder and more terrorized, if such was possible.
On weak, trembling legs, Tyler nervously tried once more to clean his grimy glasses, as if such action would negate all that had happened in the preceding twenty minutes.
With glasses askew but in place, and after acknowledging that hopes of rewinding past events were futile, he sucked a quivering breath into his lungs. He reexamined his surroundings. He was standing on a path--a peculiar path leading in only one direction. Tyler was surrounded on three sides by the red carpet of grass; the yellow trunks of the umbrella trees; and the green, glowing, stick plants protruding from clumps of turquoise brush. The orange path lead only to the front. 'Why just one direction?' he bounced the thought inside his head.
As he did, an ear-splitting voice, emanating from everywhere, yet coming from nowhere, spoke, "That path, Tyler, will lead you to economic understanding. There is only one direction."
Tyler recognized the menacing voice of Professor Francis.
"WHERE AM I PROFESSOR?" Tyler screamed.
"You will receive a lesson in economics unlike few others. All you have to do is follow the path. The signs will tell you where to go. THIS is your EXTRA CREDIT, Mr. Martin."
"But, I don't want any extra credit. I changed my mind. I don't want a lesson. I don't want to follow the path. I want to go home," Tyler screamed out. "I understand economics now. Really, I do. It's like fried chicken." He pleaded.
His pleas were useless. The professor was gone.
Chapter Two: A Kind, Loving Instructor
It was quite clear to Tyler that Professor Francis had some torturous fate in store for him. Tyler was undoubtedly being prepared for a cannibalistic feast. He expected the professor to appear at any moment with carving knife and bib.
To prepare for this certainty, Tyler huddled childlike in a ball on the orange path, clutching legs with arms and burying face in knees. This position was obviously designed to ward off ferocious attack by professor or beastly being.
Much to Tyler's surprise, several long moments passed without any sign of a flesh-hungry professor. Perhaps the Western State rumors were not totally accurate. Perhaps the professor did not personally eat inquisitive students, but only sent them into the deadly jaws of a gruesome creature--probably a man-eating dragon. More long moments passed as Tyler huddled in his protective crouch without the serious loss of appendages.
Tyler's amazing survival ability not only gave him confidence, it gave him time to think. His defensive strategy, while clearly fruitful to this point, did not seem to be a viable long-term solution. It was time to be more assertive. An annoying thought also crept into Tyler's mind. Professor Francis might not be interested in gnawing on his bones and placing his head in a trophy case. Maybe, just maybe, this was, as the professor had said, some sort of way to learn economics.
'Follow the path,' the professor had instructed. As more long moments passed, Tyler realized that he had no other options. Professor Francis could probably devour him whenever and wherever he chose.
Tyler slowly uncurled from his defensive ball and rose to his feet. He began what he hoped to be a short trip along the dusty, orange path. He had no idea where he was going. He still was not clear as to why. He was only sure of one thing, the professor had something in store. Tyler truly hoped that it was economics, and not a man-eating dragon.
Tyler had convinced his legs to carry him only a few steps down the path when he heard a faint animal-like sound in the trees to his right. He stopped, breathless and motionless, staring in the direction of the sound. This was clearly the end to life as he knew it. He expected to see a man-eating dragon burst from the dense foliage at any moment.
When a sudden flutter came from the trees, Tyler threw his hands over his head and fell to the orange dirt.
But he remained alive.
He uncovered his head slowly for a peak at the monster that was certainly preparing to gorge on his flesh and gnaw mercilessly on his bones. Perched on one of the glowing green stick plants that jutted from a clump of turquoise brush was the strangest looking creature Tyler had ever seen. It had the unmistakable body of a large, green frog and the face of what appeared to be a calico cat. Protruding from the cat's snot, however, was an orange, duck-shaped beak. This bird theme was also exhibited by the brown feather-covered wings folded beside its frog body, and a fluffy, feathery plume protruding from the top of its head. As it perched on the green plant, looking directly at Tyler, its throat enlarged, emitting a frog-like 'croak', and its wings stretched to a full two-foot span. This hodge-podge of a creature then tucked its wings back along its body and settled onto its perch. The green glow of the stick-plant perch did nothing to eliminate this creature's sinister appearance.
Tyler and the flying duck-billed, frog-cat creature stared motionless at each other for several moments. Then, as if bored by the encounter, the bird- frog blinked its eyes and looked away. A moment later it flapped its wings and sprang into flight, finding another perch, beyond Tyler's view deeper into the foliage.
Relief swept over Tyler as he rose cautiously to his feet and once again tried in vain to brush the orange dirt from his clothes. While he was thankful that his flesh was still connected to his bones, this encounter did nothing to eliminate his apprehensions. He wanted to scream for the professor. He wanted to go home.
Tyler, however, was coming to the realization that the only way to get home was to move along this winding, orange path--probably the quicker the better. He turned away from the spot the strange flying duck-cat creature had entered the dense foliage and continued his trek. As he walked his eyes grew more adjusted to the green twilight. Tyler was still trembling several steps later when he saw a rectangular purple object tacked to the smooth, yellow trunk of a small umbrella tree next to the path a few yards ahead. As he cautiously approached, he saw that the purple object was a sign. Tyler recalled the professor saying 'follow the signs.' This must be one of them. Tyler hoped the sign would lead him safely out of this strange place. The sign was simple, and seem to need no explanation. It read:
ECONOMICS
Test #1
100 meters
A TEST!
This notion of a test changed things. The thought of a test under normal circumstances twisted Tyler's stomach into a knot. Exams given by Professor Francis were the worst of the lot. Most students, Tyler included, left the professor's exams questioning not only the decision to take economics, but also their birth. The thought of a test here, in this bizarre place, amid yellow, umbrella-shaped trees and strange flying frog-cats, could be anything. Tyler envisioned a test pitting man against beast, with only the victor walking free. As he walked ever so slowly along the path, each test Tyler envisioned ended with his bloodied body being gnawed by monsters with unspeakably hideous features. With no other option at hand, he slowly, quietly, walked onward.
Rounding yet another of the bends in the path, Tyler saw movement through the trunks of the umbrella trees a short distance ahead. He adjusted his dirty glasses, but failed to determine what it was that moved. As he grew closer he thought he could see a small creature of some sort. Perhaps it was rabbit, or a wild dog. Yes, it seemed to have long ears, like a rabbit, but it was larger than any rabbit he had every seen. Then it became clear that the creature was standing upright and wearing clothes. Clothes! This creature was wearing bright green clothes. This observation reduced Tyler's anxiety a little. But only a little. Wild, ferocious, student-gnawing creatures certainly did not wear green clothing. In any case, Tyler remained on guard. Clothes or no clothes, the vision of his bloodied body persisted.
When Tyler had quietly moved to within a few yards of this green-clad, long-eared creature, he saw that it looked more like a human than a rabbit, even though it was a trifle small. At its full height this creature would stand only waist high to Tyler. Tyler studied the creature further, concluding that it more closely resembled a monkey that a human. With the exception of a prominent human-shaped nose, this creature looked like a monkey with long pointed ears. But even with it's human-like qualities, it's ears were definitely long and pointed. The green clothes covered most of the creatures body, with only a bit of light, fluffy, grey fur protruding from the openings of the sleeves and trouser legs.
Tyler came to a crouching stop, near the yellow trunk of an umbrella tree, thinking that the creature was unaware of his presence. That was one, but only one, of the reasons why Tyler was startled when the creature spoke.
"Ah, Mr. Martin," the creature said without looking up, somewhat reminiscent of Professor Francis.
Tyler remained motionless for a very long moment, all but hoping the creature had been talking to another Mr. Martin. When the creature spoke again Tyler felt like the proverbial child caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
"I have been waiting for you, Mr. Martin. Professor Francis said that you would be along."
Tyler nodded slightly, at last showing an admission of his existence.
"We must get started," the furry creature said. "We have much to cover and I have a great deal of work yet to do."
Tyler was still several feet away from the creature, completely awed by the happenings. He attempted what might have passed for intelligence speech at another time, "I... uh... what... what's going on here?"
"We have no time for questions," he motioned for Tyler to move closer. "Come here. Mr. Martin. We must get on with this. You have a great deal to learn."
"But what... who are you?" Tyler persisted.
"Please, please, Mr. Martin, we really no have time for your questions."
When Tyler failed to budge the creature resigned to at least a brief explanation.
"You are here to learn economics, are you not, Mr. Martin?"
Tyler nodded reflexively.
"Well, I am here to help you learn."
Tyler started to nod once again in his trance-like state, but caught himself and said, "But who are you and where is here?"
"Oh, very well," the creature sighed. "I really wish they would give you students a better orientation. I am your instructor, and you are in Leornia. You have come to Leornia to learn. That is the reason for Leornia, to learn."
Tyler nodded again, somewhat relieved by the explanation and took a step towards the self-proclaimed instructor. He stopped, however, upon realizing that he knew only slightly more after the explanation than he did before.
"Well, where is... uh... this Leornia?" he demanded.
The instructor was obviously disturbed by this departure from the intended subject matter. The instructor said, "I am not here to discuss the location of Leornia. I am here to test your knowledge of economics. Now, if you don't mind we really must begin."
"But," Tyler protested, "I don't want to learn economics. I just want to go home. There must be some mistake. You've got to let me go home."
The instructor produced a clipboard from behind his back, then said, "No, there is no mistake. You are Tyler Martin, are you not? You are a student of Professor Francis at Western State University?"
Tyler nodded in agreement.
"Then there is no mistake," the instructor said allowing no room for debate. "Now, please. We must get on with your lesson."
Tyler realized further protests on his part would be pointless. He did, however, remain partially hidden behind the yellow trunk of the umbrella tree, clinging to it like a security blanket.
The instructor waited momentarily for Tyler to come closer, to the proper position, for the examination. When he realized this would not happen he turned his attention once again to the clipboard he held in his furry paws. He studied it for a moment, then looked up at Tyler.
"Now I have some questions for you. Mr. Martin. You must try to answer them to the best of your ability. These questions constitute the first phase of your test."
The instructor looked at his clipboard again, still apparently annoyed by Tyler's position next to the tree. Finally the instructor said, "Mr. Martin, would you please come over here so I can properly administer this exam."
Tyler shook his head and did not move.
The instructor sighed.
"Very well Mr. Martin, here is the first question. 'If you could have anything in the world to make you completely satisfied, what would it be?'"
Tyler paused, obviously bewildered. "That's it?" he asked, "That's the question?"
"Yes it is, Mr. Martin. What is your answer?"
"Are you sure that's the question?"
The instructor nodded.
Tyler's apprehensions faded. He thought about the question. It was a surprisingly easy question. Tyler chuckled slightly as he felt a great burden lifted from him. With the strangeness that had been thrust upon him in the past hour he had expected, at the very least, a life-threatening question. A question that might deal with the very essence of life and economics. Yet, this question seemed so simple. Tyler began to laugh aloud. 'What would make me completely satisfied?' he pondered.
Tyler considered the question for a moment. He was starting to become quite hungry. A cheeseburger and cola would taste great. Or perhaps a pizza. But, then he mentally laughed at this trivial response.
"What would make me completely satisfied," Tyler asked to clarify the question.
A cheeseburger and cola would taste good, but it would not satisfy him completely. He decided to go for the ultimate. A brand new Porsche, that would be the ultimate. Or maybe a cruise around the world, and a private estate on a tropical island? Then, as if on cue, a thousand items began passing through his head. A thousand items that Tyler wanted. But the more he thought about each, the more he realized that none alone, nor even all of them together, would satisfy him.
Sweat beads began to form on Tyler's forehead as he recognized the life-ending possibilities that might come with no answer. He finally said, "I can't think of anything that would make me completely satisfied?"
"Nothing?" the instructor queried cautiously.
"Yes, nothing," Tyler said feeling defeated and resigning himself to whatever fate may await him. "There are so many things that I would like to have. But, there is nothing that would make me completely satisfied."
"Nothing?" the instructor asked a second time for absolute clarity.
"Yes, nothing," Tyler said bitterly.
"That is the correct answer, Mr. Martin," the instructor said marking on his clipboard.
"What?... I don't get it?" Tyler said. "What do you mean that's the correct answer? I didn't give you an answer."
"Oh, but you did. And it was correct. There is nothing that will make you completely satisfied. Perhaps you may be content for a short period, but you can never be completely satisfied. There is always more that you will want. And as you suspected, that question actually did deal with the very essence of life and economics."
Tyler was relieved, but puzzled. He accepted the instructor's decision without further discussion.
"Now for your second question, Mr. Martin." The instructor looked once more at his clipboard, and asked, "What are scarce resources?"
Tyler envisioned the professor standing in front of class talking about scarce resources. Surprising himself, Tyler realized that he recalled some of the professor's lecture.
"I know what they are," Tyler said with limited confidence. "Let me see, scarce resources, which are often called factors of production, can be classified as capital, like factories and machinery--that's one. Another scarce resource is land, which is all of the raw materials, minerals, vegetation, and other things that naturally occur on the land. And a third is..." Tyler stopped for a moment and thought. He knew there was a third. But what was it?
'There was capital, and land,' he thought, mentally checking off each. There was another one. He could remember the professor listing the scarce resources on the chalkboard.
"LABOR!" he finally blurted out as it came to him. "Labor is the third resource." He felt very proud of himself. "Labor is a scarce resource because it takes people to operate the machinery." Then he added hastily, "And sometimes entrepreneurship is considered as a separate resource. Entrepreneurship is a special type of human effort that takes on the risk and responsibility of bringing the labor, capital, and land together to make stuff."
"That is a satisfactory answer, Mr. Martin," the furry instructor said, showing no sign of being impressed with Tyler's response.
Tyler's confidence was growing by the moment. His correct responses to the instructor's first two questions gave Tyler the feeling that he could answer any economic question posed. Yes, Tyler knew it all.
Then the instructor examined his clipboard once again.
"You have identified the scarce resources," he said, "now tell me why they are scarce. What is scarcity, Mr. Martin?"
"Scarcity?" Tyler asked. "What do you mean scarcity? Land, capital and labor are scarce. They're scarce resources."
"We have established that they are scarce resources, Mr. Martin. You must now tell me why they are scarce," the instructor persisted.
"Why?" Tyler repeated. He did not recall the professor saying why the resources were scarce. Perhaps Tyler missed it when he was talking to Lisa Catchings about the Thetas' all-weekend pool and pajama party. Yes, of course, that must have been the day the professor had talked about scarcity.
The seconds ticked away. Even though a clock was nowhere around, Tyler could still sense the seconds, then minutes, quickly pass. Tyler felt the time grow long. Sweat reappeared on his forehead. 'Scarcity,' he thought, 'what is scarcity?' Then he remembered the professor talking about scarcity in his office just moments before he was exiled to this land of weirdness. What had the professor said about scarcity? It had something to do with fried chicken.
"We have little time, Mr. Martin," the instructor prodded, interrupting and destroying what little concentration Tyler had remaining.
The sweat on his forehead became more profuse. His palms grew wet and his mouth grew dry. His glasses began to slip annoyingly down his nose. His grip tightened around the yellow trunk of the umbrella tree. He could no longer concentrate on scarcity. All that came to his mind was the vision of hideous monsters lurking just off the path, waiting to pounced at his incorrect answer. Tyler thought he saw a movement off to his left. He jumped abruptly. No, not a monster, just that flying frog-cat that he had seen earlier coming to rest a green stick plant. Perhaps the frog-cat was preparing for an attack. Tyler noted how much that flying bird-frog-cat creature sort of resembled a small dragon.
Finally Tyler said, "I don't know the answer. I don't know what scarcity is. It has something to do with fried chicken. But I can't remember what."
"Are you certain t hat you do not know the answer?" the instructor asked.
Tyler shook his head. He then closed his eyes, covered his head with his hands, and pressed closer to the yellow trunk, waiting for the attack. But none came.
"Very well, if you don't know, then I guess you don't know," the instructor said as he reluctantly marked on his clipboard.
Tyler opened his eyes and gave a mental sigh. "What will happened to me?" Tyler asked, not certain that he really wanted to know.
Once again the instructor looked at his clipboard, and nodded. He returned shortly, dragging a large, purple bag along the red carpet-grass. The bag was about three times the size of a grocery sack--almost as big as the instructor--and closed at the top with a short, purple strap. The instructor struggled as he drug the bag across the orange path to where Tyler clung to the tree. Tyler began to back away.
The instructor left the bag within Tyler's reach and disappeared into the trees once again. He quickly returned, dragging a second purple bag almost identical to the first. He pushed the second bag next to the first.
"What is this?" Tyler asked hesitantly.
"Jewels," the instructor answered.
"What?!," Tyler was dumfounded. "I don't understand."
"Yes," the instructor continued, "there are diamonds, rubies, several very large emeralds, and I believe the first bag even includes some pearls, if I'm not mistaken." The instructor eyed the first bag setting on the orange ground. "Yes, of course, pearls. These are yours to keep when you finish your lesson and leave Leornia. I understand that they are quite valuable in the your world."
"But," Tyler protested, "I answered the question wrong. Why did you give me jewels? There must be millions of dollars worth of stuff here."
"No time for explanations, Mr. Martin," the instructor said as he checked his clipboard again. "You have one final question to answer."
"But, I don't understand," Tyler said, a little hesitant to continue questioning his good fortune, but still very confused.
"You will understand, Mr. Martin. Very soon, you will understand," he said. "Now one more question..." When Tyler did not continue his previous line of inquiry, the instructor asked, "What is opportunity cost?"
By this time Tyler's thoughts were several million dollars away from economics. He vaguely remembered the professor saying something about opportunity cost. But now he had two bags filled with valuable jewels. These jewels had to be worth millions, maybe billions, of dollars. He could have anything in the world that he every wanted. No, he could have everything in the world that he wanted. Then Tyler recalled the instructor's first question. Perhaps not everything, but certainly he could have a lot. Tyler's mind raced through a wide assortment of sports cars, yachts, and other goods that could be bought with his new found wealth. He could hardly wait to tell Lisa Catchings and the Thetas. As his thoughts raced, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that it was important to answer a question about opportunity cost. However, the front of his mind could go no further than the two bags of precious stones at his feet.
After a long, long moment of silence the instructor cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Martin, I am waiting for your answer. You have to give me answer before I can let you pass."
The thought of remaining on this path for an extended period of time brought Tyler's attention away from the two bags.
'Opportunity cost' he thought silently to himself.
"Yes, Mr. Martin," the instructor said, "Opportunity cost."
Tyler looked up at the creature. "What?... oh..." he said, not realizing he had been thinking aloud. "Um... yes... opportunity cost is..."
But he could not remember. It had something to do with giving up something, but what and why, he did not know. He finally confessed, "I don't remember about opportunity cost," and was ready to return one or both of the bags.
"I can see why the professor sent you," the instructor said as he made marks on his clipboard. "You need a great deal of help."
Tyler stood speechless. Then he asked, "Do I get another bag?" But as the words came from his mouth, he knew he had asked the wrong question.
"No, Mr. Martin," the furry guy said as he checked his clipboard, "You do not receive another bag, but you do get a bit of advice. There is very little food on your path. If you become hungry, and you will, you can safely eat the purple fruit that you will find beside the path. But let me warn you that there is no other food. You should take as much fruit with you as you can carry. The journey along the path is a long one. You will need the fruit to complete your lesson in Leornia."
"Purple fruit?" Tyler asked, once more confused.
But the instructor could not answer; he had scampered into the trees and out of sight.