PRICING THE PRICELESS
We live in a free-market economy where we can easily overvalue the things that have a price and fail to appreciate the things that we can’t quantify in dollars and cents.
I thought I had my weekend schedule in place. Drawing on my primal instincts, I’d planned a ‘hunt-kill-eat’ adventure except in modern-day terms it was to be ‘shop-buy-watch’ undertaking.
For weeks, I was on the prowl for a flat screen TV. I had already applied all the ingrained skills of my prehistoric ancestors. I identified the best watering holes, the big box stores where I’d find my prey. I studied the dynamics around those “watering holes” for the best time when least congested with customers, good end-of-the-month promotional sales. On the weekend I chose, I lined up a fellow hunter to help me mount my catch when I got it back to my den. I was all set.
Then my daughter called.
“Dad, I had a crappy week at work. I need to unwind. Can I come over and just hang out with you and Mom this weekend?”
“Well …. yes, of course, I guess.”
“You sound unsure.” She was always good at detecting Dad’s moods. “If you and Mom have plans already, I understand. I was just hoping….” Her voice trailed off.
I quickly tried to comfort her. “No. I’ve got nothing going this weekend that I can’t reschedule. I had planned to do some shopping. But … that can wait.”
“Great, Dad! Let’s order takeout and eat in. My treat. You and Mom have paid too many times. I can afford it now that I got the promotion to that new company position I hoped for. It’s just that my new boss is an @#&! …. Well, I’ll explain what’s going on when I see you. That’s why I wanna talk.”
“You’re on. Come on over. I’m sure you’re your mom’s OK with it as well.”
“Thanks.” She gave an audible sigh that signaled she was already feeling better. “Besides, it’s had been a while since we’ve had some time together. You two beat me bad at rummy cube the last time we played; I want revenge. I’ll come over Saturday early afternoon. I want to spend the night in my old room. My apartment mate can take care of our cats. See you then. Love You! Bye!”
I put down the phone, feeling somewhat annoyed at myself for not being more open about all the planning that I had put into my big TV shopping weekend. Now, I’d need to phone my hunting buddy and reschedule. Bummer!
I wouldn’t have traded that “TV or me” weekend with our daughter for anything. My wife and I started by listening as she vented about her insensitive new supervisor. We suggested she stay positive, act proactively, and keep an eye on the job market because the work world is constantly changing.
Dinner was delightful and the board game competition contentious but civil, as is the friendly but fierce intra-generational rivalry in our household. On balance, that time with our daughter, as disruptive as it was to my original shopping plans, made the thought of flat-screen TVs wither into insignificance.
That also got me to thinking about things of value that are priceless, like family moments together, when contrasted to all the material things that have a price but pale in value by comparison.
The American economy cultivates in us a market-price mentality. As youngsters, we ask friends who are showing off a new bike or new clothes: “How much did that cost?’ Later in life, we can recite with reasonable accuracy the cost of a smartphone, a new car, or scores of other products that invade our consciousness in the media or at the shopping mall. We know the price of stuff better than the names of foreign countries - let alone their capital cities or heads of state.
It may not come as a surprise that the longest running TV game show on television is the one-hour CBS daytime program The Price is Right! Jeopardy started up in 1974 and came and went with periods of hiatus over the years. “The Price is Right!” has run continuously since it began back in the early 1970s. Today the franchise is more than a TV game show; it’s now also available as a board game and has gone beyond that to become an online smartphone app and even exists in a Las Vegas slot machine version.
I’m not suggesting that “The Price is Right!” reflects a darker side of American society. I mention it because we tend to obsess over the price of things. However, we find ourselves adrift when assigning a value to things that have no price tag. As a result, I fear, things that have a price often crowd out those ‘priceless’ things or events that contribute to the quality of our lives.
What, for example, is the price (cost) of running a public library for an hour longer each week? What is the cost of maintaining a public park so that it’s clean and safe? Put a price, if you can, on replacing or remodeling a dilapidated elementary school? Or improving and maintaining safe water and clean air? We don’t know where to begin.
Worse, we often think of clean air and water as ‘free goods’ or as entitlements to expect and don’t concern ourselves with their cost or price … until they are not there in the quantity or quality we expect. We have a general idea of how much of a house we can afford and how much to budget for buying a vehicle. But many things of real value to us are often impossible to assess in monetary terms.
As a result, we often balk at committing funds when local bond issues come up for a vote during election time, or political candidates dare to suggest that we may need to raise taxes to keep open our libraries and keep our parks clean and safe. Our excuse is to question whether we are getting value for our money.
It’s taken a viral pandemic to help us appreciate the value of being able to enjoy a stroll in our public spaces or relax browsing at the county library. Many parents faced with homeschooling their kids during COVID lockdown now swear, “We’ll never ever again vote against another school bond measure!”
This pandemic-induced awareness of the value of things to which we cannot attach a price just might encourage us to budget the time and money to protect, preserve and pay for public services even if that may mean higher taxes.
The corporate world is well aware of how price-sensitive we are in considering their products and services. One credit card company has even built price and pricelessness into its advertising campaigns. Remember those popular prime-time ads during commercial breaks at sporting events over the last few years? Example:
“Two bleacher seat tickets to the baseball game, $60.00; soft drinks and hotdogs, $30.00; a souvenir T-shirt, $15.00; two hours together with your son cheering on your hometown team, priceless. For everything else, there’s [advertiser’s credit card].”
Yes, even the best Madison Avenue marketing firm wouldn’t attempt to put a price on such experiences.
What all this suggests is that we need to try hard to keep the stuff with a price-tag from driving out those invaluable priceless moments that give our lives meaning. It isn’t easy. We know we have become too overwhelmed by stuff with a price on it when we must give up some of that priceless quality time with family because we need to clean some of that stuff out of the garage to get the car back into it or declutter the basement so that we can maneuver around down there.
I’ve developed a crude measure to assess my personal progress toward increasing the share of my day devoted to the valuable, but often not “priceable,” things and experiences in my life. I discovered that the ratio of quality time to stuff time was around 1 - 10, that is 1 minute enjoying quality time compared to dealing with stuff around me. I’ve worked to raise that ratio, but I still have a way to go to reach a 1-to-1 ratio when I can say I’m enjoying as much quality time as stuff time in my life.
I’ll be the first to admit that it’s been a struggle to reach that ratio between stuff time and quality time because those categories are not easily definable. On which side of the quality/stuff ratio do I put the time I enjoy just puttering around the house, fixing stuff that’s broken rather than tossing it in the trash and liberating myself from it? Is that ‘stuff time’ or ‘quality time?’
As much as I enjoy the challenges of trying to repair something broken, the time I spend doing so is at the cost of time no longer available for reading more books and discussing them with friends and family. And just ask my wife and daughter and they’ll point to enjoying quality time together shopping … for stuff!
Self-discipline is important if quality time is to compete with stuff time. One mother commented in the press that driving her daughter to and from school or soccer games was one of the few moments of quality time they had together. A time so precious, they both realized that they agreed to turn off the car radio and stow away her daughter’s smartphone during their trips together.
When I finally find time to buy that big-screen TV, I know now that one use I will put it to is setting up regular movie nights with my daughter and wife. And then build into our movie viewing some quality time together before and after when we can enjoy some priceless moments talking and sharing our entertainment experience together. ###