Stop Shopping: A Paean To Sanity

By the way, ladies? A good boyfriend is one who has no desire to accompany you and your friends on your trips to the mall.

By the way, ladies? A good boyfriend is one who has no desire to accompany you and your friends on your trips to the mall.

 

Not literally “Stop shopping,” of course. We’re not encouraging you to sit on your money and let it fester while disengaging yourself from the marketplace. (You can find that advice, moronic as it is, on plenty of other personal finance sites. Most of them, it seems.) You’re going to need stuff, and chances are pretty good that not only has someone out there already perfected said stuff, but they’ve also achieved economies of scale and can sell it to you more cheaply and for less hassle than you can make it yourself. This goes for mouthwash, cars and everything in between.

But for God’s sake, get out of the store. Folks, Amazon has perfected the buying of just about everything but gas and groceries. Also, Amazon has forced century-old traditional retailers to step their collective game up. Yes, Amazon is also a sponsor (and the only place you can get the Kindle version of our fantastic book), but that’s beside the point. We wouldn’t write a puff piece about a retailer, not when 60 Minutes ran the definitive slobbering sycophantic segment on Amazon last Sunday. (Note to people under 80: 60 Minutes is this newsmagazine on CBS that hasn’t evolved nor progressed since it debuted 45 years ago. Wait. “CBS” is a network your grandparents watch. A “newsmagazine” is a TV show that…oh, never mind.)

Back to buying stuff online vs. in a store. 20 years from now, hopefully sooner, the idea of physical “shopping” as an activity undertaken for the purpose of increasing one’s stock of goods is going to seem as archaic as communicating primarily via telephone does to us today.

Earlier this week, the CYC team had cause to buy a dishwasher. Which, given the price and immobility of dishwashers, seems like the rare purchase that might warrant a trip to a store. Okay, fine. Our options for retail stores are limited during the time of the year when CYC decamps to its winter headquarters – the nearest Best Buy is 80 nautical miles away – so we were forced to go to Sears, the 60 Minutes of appliance outlets. We had our hopes set on this beauty from the good folks at Bosch. The model comes with SaniDry™ and EcoSense®, and every discerning buyer knows that copyrighted feature names are the hallmark of a great product.

The dishwasher is regularly $600 if you’re in the contiguous United States, $670 if you’re in the middle of the North Pacific. We’ll go with latter figure, seeing as it applies to us. HOWEVER…

10% discount for using a Sears card, now we’re down to $607. Dishwashers aren’t light, and CYC’s winter vehicle doesn’t weigh much less than the Bosch Ascenta SHE3AR72UC as it is. Ah, that’s where they screw you: the services and incidentals. Someone’s got to put it on a truck and drive it out to CYC Winter Headquarters, 30 miles from the store, and as long as they do so then they might as well install it too. $80 for the former, $10 for the latter. Including taxes, the total came out to $653.69.

Contrast this with actually going into the store, sniffing the floor models and waiting for a clerk (excuse us, “Sears Team Member”) to make the sale. Floor price, $602. Delivery and installation, $200. Ouch. To say nothing of the 60-mile, hour-plus round trip required to have the privilege of fighting for a parking space and then waiting for the previous customer to finish her interminable conversation with the overworked clerk. (“Can I wash wine glasses in this? My husband and I like to entertain on the weekends sometimes. And we like to drink wine. Sometimes we’ll have a dozen people over. Now do you know if we can put wine glasses in this model? Because sometimes they break. They’re very delicate, you know. Yeah, I’m old, I’m female, I like to blather. This is what we do. Would you like to see pictures of my grandchildren? Oh wait, this is the wrong wallet.”)

So yeah, buy as much as you can online and as little as possible via brick-and-mortar means. By advocating that, are we risking a future in which retail becomes an oligopoly, much like cell phone service and automobile sales are? After all, there are only a handful of car manufacturers, and even fewer mobile network operators. Will we eventually see a world where everyone buys from a few online giants while (to overwork an overworked metaphor) “Main Street” continues to gather dust?

No, because millions of “micro-retailers” still exist, smaller even that the Main Street mercantiles. This is a shining example of the barbell phenomenon that Nassim Nicholas Taleb examined (also available on Amazon.) To simplify, you have a few extremely large-volume players, and myriads of tiny players. The 80-20 rule, or some variant thereof. Most of our big-ticket purchases come from one of two places- billion-dollar retailers such as Sears, or…ordinary folk around the globe on eBay (and locally, on Craigslist) who just want liquidity. The latter collectively make up a huge part of the vendorship we deal with, even though each individual eBayer or Craigslist advertiser is as small as small-time gets. The guy sold us our last car was on Craigslist. The “guy” who sold us our last TV was Jeff Bezos, more or less. And the next time we visit a neighborhood clothing or record store out of anything other than curiosity might be the last.

How Are We Still Having This Conversation?

 

Speaking of children working in inhumane conditions, how much did he pay the 5-year-old who created that sign?

 

Sometimes, avoiding the first-person voice on this blog is impractical. But we try, and will continue to. Here’s a recent conversation with a Lexus-driving business owner who lives in one of the ritziest gated communities in town, if not the ritziest:

Him: You shop at Walmart? (harrumph)

Yes, he harrumphed. An onomatopoeic expression that sums up his indignation with our choice of grocery purveyor far more effectively than any words could. Our relationship will never be the same.

It doesn’t matter what the low-cost provider is. Could be WinCo, Food4Less, or whichever discounter in your town sells in bulk and doesn’t waste money on décor. But Walmart gets most of the notoriety, and will serve as our example. It’s notorious because it isn’t unionized, and was founded in a part of the country that some people equate with a punchline. Boiled down to their essence, the reasons most commonly given for not buying groceries at Walmart (and passing judgment on those who do) are:

  1. The people who shop there are comically unfashionable, which should make it obvious to you that the food itself is awful.
  2. The company exploits workers, somehow.
  3. It runs mom-and-pop stores out of business.

 

Grocery shopping is not a social statement, or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s simply something you do to avoid starvation.

Given that Walmart has the most employees of any corporation in the United States, and doesn’t keep any of them shackled, is there any chance that maybe the employees don’t feel they’re being exploited?

You could argue that they’re too dumb to know it, as many a wag does. At that point it becomes less about the principals and more about the observer.

Day-to-day buying and selling of goods and services in a relatively free economy like the United States’ is a series of voluntary exchanges. Ideally, the cheapest provider not only ought to win (in a logical sense), but should win (in a moral sense). You take possession of whatever it is you wanted regardless of whom you buy from, but when patronizing the lowest bidder you end up with more money in your pocket. You’d think this is so obvious that it doesn’t warrant mentioning, but it does. Again and again and again. In the same respect, when selling something – and what most of us sell is ourselves, on a regular schedule 5 days a week – we’re looking for the opposite and will only do business with the highest bidder.

When buying anything, and we used groceries because they’re as much of a necessity as anything, you’re welcome to pay a premium for proximity, for perceived quality, or even for guilt. But the sensible thing to do is to buy as cheaply as possible. When operating as a seller (see above), you’re again welcome to offer a discount. But you’d need a compelling reason to. Two jobs with the same requirements, equidistant from your home, but you’d choose the one that pays less? Maybe if your ex-spouse sits by the door at the better-paying one, but it’s hard to think of many other reasons why you’d refuse an opportunity to make more money with no incremental effort.

Back to the buying side. Clearly, the Cheerios and celery at Safeway are of much higher quality than those sold by the Bentonville Bruiser. And the canard about running family businesses out of operation doesn’t stand up to any kind of scrutiny. How Kroger, SuperValu, and the Delhaize Group stores (Food Lion, et al.), each multibillion-dollar concerns, managed to avoid that same accusation is a mystery. The “mom-and-pop” grocery store is, to almost all of us, laughably inapplicable and obsolete. Family-owned food merchants are as much a part of 2012’s landscape as dry goods stores and blacksmiths are.

There are trillions of ways to waste money, and future generations will find further ways that we could never conceive of. But with respect to gambling, smoking, drinking, taking out permanent life insurance, and incurring credit card debt, it’d seem that paying extra just for the sake of paying extra would be an easy one to omit. For many, it isn’t.

Speaking out of self-interest, we can make an argument that that’s good: when other people are willingly spending more than they need to, it makes it easier for the rest of us to make offers on assets. After all, there are now fewer viable bidders in the marketplace. On the other hand, a society full of financial dimwits is a weak one. There are two major reasons why China went from economic wasteland to powerhouse in barely a generation. One is a government policy of economic liberalization, the other is a cultural propensity to bargain and save. (Cf. Mark Steyn, “Culture trumps economics.” When you’ve got both on your side, seismic shifts occur.) Westerners who do dumb things with their money indirectly hurt all of us, their cumulative effects making our society that much weaker.

Maybe the economic truths that we hold to be self-evident, aren’t. Buying an item at Store X when Store Y sells it more cheaply means putting your own financial interest in a position of relative unimportance. Caring about the plight of the non-unionized Walmart employee is a job for…the non-unionized Walmart employee. Respect that, and we won’t tell you to eat your vegetables and straighten your tie.

This article is featured in:

**The Totally Money Blog Carnival #62-Easter Edition**

The Ultimate Christmas Gift

Last year, American Express created a website that concentrated on personal finance: GetCurrency.com. They solicited writers from among the most prominent personal finance bloggers. We offered our talents, and the GetCurrency.com editors found our submissions wanting. Meanwhile, they’d run posts from that earnest imbecile at The Simple Dollar who tells blatant lies about how his 4-year-old has started a college fund.

As 2011 enters the home stretch, guess what? Control Your Cash is going better than ever. As for GetCurrency.com, here’s a recent screenshot:

Schadenfreude, and it feels so good…

So here it is again, our annual post about the best possible Christmas gift. We recommend this gift as suitable for giving to just about any individual or business. Except for GetCurrency.com; for them we’d go with a cemetery plot and a gravestone. Season’s freaking Greetings. 

From a utilitarian perspective, giving gifts makes no sense. Generally speaking, you buy gifts for people who are likely to buy you gifts – hence the term “exchanging”. Receive a gift from someone you had no intention of buying anything for, and you’re selfish and inconsiderate. Do the opposite and you’re a sucker. And if you do buy something for someone who buys something for you, custom dictates that the gifts can’t be of disparate value: hence the ludicrous practice of removing price labels. After all, nothing ruins the joy of receiving a thoughtful and apposite gift than finding out the donor spent too little on it.

Think about it: you spend money to get people things that you hope they’ll like. If they don’t, you’ve wasted your time and resources. Thus the most useful possible gift is the one perfectly adaptable one: cash. But again, the suitability of cash runs into the brick wall of decorum. ‘Tis the season to be gauche. And again, if the recipient adopts the same logic about gift-giving, you end up exchanging cash for cash. Reduced to its fundamentals, the transaction is easy if quotidian: instead of you buying me a $150 gift and me buying you a $160 one, I should just give you $10. Then we can spend the next year discussing how I’m tacky and you’re cheap.

If you’re the parent of a young adult, or otherwise have someone in your life whose net worth isn’t yet where yours is, here’s a mutually beneficial idea for a decidedly American gift that isn’t cash: the next best thing, credit.

The average college graduate receives that bachelor’s degree with a 5-digit Sallie Mae obligation. As for the prudent and responsible students who manage to graduate with no or minimal student loans, doing so usually means there’s hardly enough money remaining to create any kind of nest egg. The wealth-building years have begun in earnest, but there’s almost nothing to lay a foundation with. Renting an apartment for the next few years (an investment with a guaranteed rate of return of -100%) wipes away much of the equity a young person could be building.

If you can afford it, lend your upwardly mobile kid enough to cover the down payment on a modest little domicile. Even buying the tiniest of townhomes gives him or her the opportunity to build equity, and to exercise the care and consideration for one’s things that renters have no incentive to.

Say you find an $80,000 condo that requires a 20% down payment to avoid private mortgage insurance costs. Financing the remaining $64,000 at today’s 3.40% 15-year rates means your kid would write monthly checks for $454.39, which makes far more sense than spending $800 on a larger rental house in a fancier part of town.

Remember, this isn’t a gift in the traditional sense. As the giver, you’re expecting something in return – regular payments, with interest. If you can give your kid a 100-basis point break on market rates, she could pay back that $16,000 loan back to you in $105.93 monthly installments. Which should be pretty easy to do, especially if she’s collecting rent from a roommate. Of course, we’re assuming she’ll be making gradually more money throughout the life of her concurrent loans.

The real “gift” in this situation is something intangible but vital: an introduction to real-world finance, and a chance to exercise responsibility. It’s the ideal meeting of a recipient whose ambitions outweigh her wherewithal, and a donor with the ability to make the recipient’s transition into the world of commerce run a little more smoothly.

So for a close loved one who’d stand to benefit from the gesture, don’t “give” a gift. Lend something instead. That way you can help foster a sense of ownership and responsibility, which beats a trinket or a consumable any day of the week.

**This article is featured in the Carnival of Personal Finance #341: Christmas in Australia Edition**