ECONOMIC OUTLOOK

Once again, this column takes advantage of the wisdom of Vern Myers, the perceptive and often outspoken publisher of Myers Finance & Energy . . . a 14-issue-a-year economic newsletter that we've found well worth its $200-per-year, $110-for-seven-issues price. (Subscribe by writing to the publication at Dept. TMEN, Suite 310, Peyton Building Spokane, Washington 99201.)

The following essay — reprinted, with permissions from Mr. Myers' October 1, 1982 issue — is representative of this writer's ability to dig to the roots of the crises facing us today . . . and then to rinse off those roots and show us very clearly just how we've gotten into the economic mess that has been building for so long and that looks to haunt us for longer still.

THE LITTLE RED HEN

Almost half a century ago an enduring financial philosophy was summer-fallowed.

A general discrediting of old-fashioned wisdom took place right after the war. People under 60 hardly remember teachings inherent in our society beginning with the first grade readers.

For some decades prior to that, the earliest stories read by young children praised the concepts of frugality, industry, incentive, responsibility. But the story of The Little Red Hen no longer appears in our primary readers. Many of my readers will not even know it. I have to tell it to them.

The Little Red Hen wanted some help to prepare the ground to plant the wheat. When she asked who would help her she got these replies: "Not I," said the cat. "Not I,'." said the dog. "Not I," said the mouse. To make a long story short, when she had gone through all the processes of preparing the ground, planting the grain, pulling the weeds, reaping the harvest, gathering the grain and baking it into bread-when all this was finally done she said, "Who will come and help me eat this bread?" "I will," said the cat. "I will," said the dog. "I will," said the mouse. And so on.

"No, you will not," said the Little Red Hen, "for I shall eat it all myself." And she did.

Very potent medicine for young children of five and six years of age.

If that story were to appear in modern readers, its ending would be as follows:

"Who will come and help me eat this bread?" said the Little Red Hen. "I will," was the answer in chorus. "Yes, please do," said the Little Red Hen, "for why should I have all this bread to myself while you have none?"

Then there was the story of The Grasshopper and the Ant, and other similar teachings. There were the slogans: Pay as you go. Never mortgage your home. Avoid debt. All of these things may seem trifles, but generations lived by these and similar precepts. Frugality, responsibility, industry, the spurning of debt were the cornerstones of economic philosophy.

Then somehow that all got turned around. This philosophy did a flip-flop. As much as 20 or 30 years ago we began to hear the following slogans: Fly now, pay later. No down payment needed. 25 years to pay. Only $15 a month. This new philosophy asked the question, why should your pleasure await the accumulation of the means to have it? Have your pleasure now.