Post #7 Team Production

It seems that gift-exchange and team production are closely linked. Collaboration seems to make people much more generous towards each other than when players are acting as individuals. This is indicated in the New York Times article, “How to Get the Rich to Share the Marbles.” This distinction between viewing yourself as a teammate or an individual in a group is very important in my experience.

I remember what was my first-ever economics group project back in my first year of college. None of my classmates knew each other, and the teams of about eight or nine were separated at random. I remember that many of my teammates were often missing from class and failed to make any sort of impression on me. In our first meeting as a team, there were only about four of us that attended, and we spent most of the time getting to know one another. In particular, one of my teammates and I happened to sit next to each other in class throughout the semester, so we got to know each other better and became better at working together.

What this did was separated our team into four different kinds of “groups” (1 or 2 people) which I’ll refer to as Groups A, B, C, and D, respectively: there were those that never spoke or showed up to class, those that showed up to class but didn’t participate much, those that showed up to class and stayed relatively connected, and my classmate and I who corresponded on a daily basis.

 By the time we presented our project to the class, these four groups proved to have four distinct and corresponding levels of productivity. Group A played no real part in the assignment. Group B did bare-minimum work that didn’t mesh well with the overall project. Group C had decent work and pulled their weight during the presentation. Group A, my classmate and I, however, ended up contributing about 50-60% of the finished product.

The treatment of the four groups during grading were interesting: Group A, which didn’t show up for presentations at all was singled out. They failed while the rest of us got a grade boost; a fact that none of us argued against. Group B surprisingly didn’t show up either, but the rest of us assured the professor that they did, at very least, what they were supposed to (other than showing up for presentations). Only half of Group B showed up. One of the two were sick, but since he did good work and was sincere about why he couldn’t attend, we insisted that they be given the same grade as those that presented. We shared our grade with him despite having to do more work presenting on his behalf. That leaves just three out eight or nine that actually presented.

The connection between teammates resulted in two things: the connected were much more willing to work hard and were much more willing to defend each other’s actions. The disconnected failed to impress and received no support when it came to grading.

Now this doesn’t necessarily mean that collaboration made certain people more productive. It could very well mean that those who were too lazy to go to class were too lazy to give an effort on the project. There’s just a few reasons that indicate that collaboration may have been a factor. The teammate that I connected most with and I were the two most productive members of the team by far. Also, as time went on, the team as a whole became more and more productive after every time we met. Assuming we all had the same level of motivation to do well, which was the to get a decent grade, a possible reason for the difference in work was collaboration and team productivity.

Post #6 Income Risk

Over this last summer, I experienced a shocking revelation; I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do after I graduate and little time to figure it out. I only have one semester left which we’re already half-way through, and most of my friends have already graduated.

Anyway, while my colleagues were diving into the real world with no more expectations for the future than I had, I decided it was time for a change. I went to my library, grabbed the first couple books I came across, and I got to work.

The first book I picked up was called “Earn What You’re Really Worth” by Brian Tracy. The book covered topics such as self-discipline, time-management, goal-setting, and increasing human capital (he didn’t use the term, but that’s essentially what it was). While I can’t yet attest to how realistic his ideas are, they inspired me, nonetheless. For the rest of the summer, I read everything I could so by the start of the fall semester, I had read over twenty books on economics, business, and finance. Reading obviously takes up time, though, so I was making a very real sacrifice to accommodate it.

What I gave up for my new pursuit of human capital was work. You might be wondering why I found the two mutually exclusive, but this is the best answer I can give: working at a cash register or as a sales clerk would increase my current income, but using those extra hours to increase my human capital would improve my future income. Every moment spent at work, so I thought, would be a moment better utilized for self-education.

I knew when I was making the sacrifice that there were some flaws to my strategy. Work was practical experience. I’d benefit by adding to my resume, and I would grow more accustomed to work-life and organizational structure than I currently am (most of my work-experience is informal). I would also earn money for my efforts which, like any college student will tell you, I never seem to have enough of. While I put some of what I learned into practice, such as organization techniques and goal-setting, I had limited opportunities to use what I learned in the real-world.

So I had to consider the pros and cons of both work and study, and I put them into two distinct categories: does this help me now or does this help me in the future? Once I had everything mentally sorted, I was able to weigh the strategies against each other. Experience or knowledge? Money or knowledge? A strategy of obvious benefits or a strategy that others would find impractical?

One of the things I picked up on from several different authors is how job uncertainty affects my generation more than it has historically. That you can never, and should never, believe you’re set for life. Job certainty is now, more than ever, a fantasy. At the same time, I now see this as an opportunity. As long as I can continue to increase my human capital, I can find and obtain a career when I need to. There’s far less income risk as long as I stay on my toes and keep learning. That way, if the economy heads south or just the company I work for does, I can remain competitive in the job market. This is one of the reasons I chose studying over work.

Since I can’t know the counterfactual, I’m not entirely sure what decision I should have made, but I’d probably make the same one. Increasing education decreases income risk and tends to increase income as well. So that’s why, when choosing between current benefits and future benefits, I choose the latter.

Post #5 Illinibucks

The allocation of “Illinibucks” would be an interesting, but flawed, solution to the waiting problem that students face on a regular basis. Who wouldn’t want to skip the line during registration or at their favorite restaurant? Nevertheless, there are some issues that might make or break the system.

Before we get to the issues, let’s look at some of the more expected uses of the Illinibuck. The most obvious use would be class registration, but as I’ll get into shortly, this may lead to some of the more complex problems. The Illinibuck could find use with students who are waiting in line at a bar or at a restaurant. Also, during the cold or rainy seasons, the bus has so many riders that you couldn’t push your way on if you tried. Getting on first could be of value. The bookstore might have a line to skip, but even the books themselves could use Illinibucks since there’s not always enough books for everyone during the first couple of weeks. Even the gym doesn’t always have enough equipment for everyone, so I’m sure a priority system could be worked in there as well. There are bound to be plenty more uses of the Illinibuck than what I’ve listed here.

For the nonessentials such as these, the Illinibuck could find success (despite a great deal of frustration and questions of fairness). Students would be free to prioritize their spending and maximize their utility. The university would need to set the prices. Setting them too high would cause students to hesitate on spending. I predict that the Illinibucks would only be used on the essentials and be much less effective on simple bookstore lines. Setting prices too low would be a problem as well. Everyone would be willing to pay. Wanting to skip the line at the grocery store? Sure. Just wait behind the twenty other people who are skipping the line.

These low prices lead into the next and perhaps more serious issue with the Illinibuck: if everyone is trying to get ahead, who really gets ahead? Think about registration. When I was still in the computer science major, it took me until my third semester to get into a particular class. This class was required to take before most other computer science classes. There was a horrible shortage in openings as every student desperately tried to sign up.

If I had Illinibucks during that time, you could bet I’d spend every last one to get into that class, and I’d be happy to do it. First in line for food, the bus, the gym, and so on would be a small sacrifice to graduate in my (at the time) preferred major. If I were the only one with Illinibucks, it all would have worked out great. However, in this hypothetical situation, that’s not the case. So what happens when everyone is willing to make the same sacrifices? In this scenario, we all have the same amount of Illinibucks, and there certainly aren’t enough computer science classes for everyone who wants to take them. The only way this scenario doesn’t end in the same way it started (everyone fighting for priority) is if there’s a secondary priority system, which defeats the purpose, there’s an increase in the supply of openings to accommodate everyone, which defeats the purpose, or there’s an unequal distribution of Illinibucks. And under the possibility of Illinibucks being bought and sold, the entire system would be undermined and a list of new problems would develop.

The Illinibuck system would lead to some interesting situations that would be nice to study, but in reality, the drawbacks would most likely outweigh the benefits. Finding the right price for line-cutting would be essential for the system’s success, and that’s under the assumption that there even is a right price. If the Illinibuck system could work, would it do more harm or good? That’s a question I couldn’t answer.