First bike ride in town
How bad will this recession be?
The year 2020 will be marked as eventful in history. The surprising onset of a tiny virus caused a global pandemic; a bear emerged in the stock market. Future generations will ponder those numbers and figures logged in Wikipedia as we are absorbed by them today.
Read full textNaturally there has been much talking of a recession. Will the post-pandemic recovery be U- or V-shaped? Could we get into another Great Depression? Following a Keynesian approach, governments poured out money with an unprecedented magnitude quickly to save the economy. The effectiveness of these gigantic rescue efforts remains to be seen; their impacts will manifest in coming months and years.
Meanwhile, the Coronavirus crisis provides an opportunity to re-examine the fundamental mechanisms of recessions and depressions. There are different theories, but economists still don’t agree on the causes of recessions and depressions. While Keynes was right about the effect of demand and that government interventions are necessary to boost demand for restarting a depressed economy, Schumpeter saw deeper and more clearly about long-term economic transitions resulting from technological change.
Reduced demand is not the cause but a symptom of recessions; government spending is therefore a symptom-based cure to recession. A more fundamental approach to mitigate the potential impacts of recessions in the long run is yet needed. It is like an ER doctor, who after saving a patient’s life with a defibrillator or a ventilator or whatever medicines, would always tell the patient to go home and practice a healthy lifestyle so to improve the immune system for the long run.
And in medicine many symptom-based cures have proved to be harmful because the mechanism turned out to be the opposite of what was observed on the surface. Medications that suppress stomach acid production for acid reflux are an example. On the other hand, new gene-based cancer treatments often produce complications because gene interactions are complex, and scientists don’t fully understand them yet.
A correct diagnosis of fundamental mechanisms is thus in order for both short- and long-term prescriptions. It is helpful even if we just try to get a sense of how bad this recession will be.
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Amid the Coronavirus crisis, I dug out some writing I did six years ago and read Schumpeter’s Business Cycles and Creative Destruction. I was glad to find support from his work and revised my old piece.
Life in the time of Coronavirus
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Green again
While more tents have popped up in the streets, the colorful bead curtain at Cafe Citron is down and a luxury jewelry store on Connecticut Ave concealed behind an ugly facade. Food trucks are gone (they used to form a pretty view on the Mall from the Washington Memorial), but workers are still working. It brightens the eye to spot a runner in fancy leggings, or young gangs dressed up cruising the street with flowers in hand.
And Kramerbooks’ window show goes on. What’s hot in the time of Coronavirus is Piketty’s new book Capital and Ideology, a successor to his epic best-selling Capital in the Twenty-First Century.
A sketch of a loon
Into the jungle the lion king rows. Wild lilies. Western painted turtles. A green-backed heron hunkering down upon a branch ready to strike at some prey… Drum beats, men’s energetic dance, powerful stamps on the grass, full spirited, and praises to mother nature. Women look grand and composed. Long warm hugs. Exquisite feathers. Brilliant colors, lots of colors… Somewhere there is a loon. Its dagger-like beak pointing upward, head moves to the rhythm of Les Toreadors. And a drawling of a loon, reclining in a couch with smooth curves, unfinished.
Our life is nothing but a bundle of relations. I am very grateful to all the people who have played a part in my life and feel incredibly lucky to have known them. For me they are all beautiful like those deep eyes, in which I saw goodness and intelligence.
The city street
The evening spreads out against a February sky. The city street bustles and mutters. A spices restaurant (without oyster shells), three spring onion cakes, a pair of hand palm, on a small table… Snow starts to fall, magically. You open your arms to embrace snowfall and invite me for a dance. So we danced. Danced through the street – which seems empty now; crossed the stone bridge – the creek is invisible in the dusk but is singing; passed doorknobs of varied shapes, as a question follows. You know, when you say hi, it sounds like an ancient voice that has traveled thousands of years to reach my ear in which I drown.
Had to pick up coffee today and was struck by how the streets have been deserted with shops and restaurants closed. Could not help re-imagining those bustling days.
Remembering a hike
Sunday morning, hair messy, perhaps a bit distraught, a bit wild. Cows and rolling farms, expansive greenness, refreshing country air, unexpected visit of a light rain… A rustic restaurant and outdoor deck, Reuben rye sandwich, sunny side up eggs, some talking of smart phone and revolution, burst of sunlight on the wooden table… Down to a canyon, waterfalls, one after another, all the way down, a camper and his simple, wonderful water filter, a fit old couple, faster steps, suddenly a storm and pouring rain, muddy trails, soaking wet from head to toe, big meadows and a camp store, bear t-shirt and bear pajama pants. Gorgeous sunset colors in the rear window.
Reread Camus’s The Plague and realized I had completely forgotten the main story lines, not to say details, of a great book. Every bit the Noble Laureate wrote is still true today. The book of course addresses rather large themes of the human condition; one motif is the challenge of keeping hope alive under many uncertainties so not to succumb to panic or dangerous pleasures. To keep memories and imaginations alive is to keep life from falling into an abstraction or bleak sterility.
Life in the time of Coronavirus
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The northern terrain
Recently when I walk along the Potomac, my memories often take me back to Michigan. In early spring these tiny flowers would open up on the side of a winding river sparkling like little gems. They make me think of Bergman and Dreyer’s motion pictures. I think the brightest wild flowers are in Alaska – I have seen them shooting out fiercely next to glaciers and at the foot of Mt. McKinley. Perhaps adverse environments do brew bright spirit – if you are not crashed by it.
My little gems along the Huron River in Ann Arbor
Rediscovery in the time of Coronavirus
Last Sunday after driving two hours only to find my favorite parks all full and overcrowded, I decided to try Turkey Run. I was so glad I did.
Read full textIt was such a pleasant walk along the river and on the forested hills that were carpeted with tiny pink Spring beauties and patches of Virginia bluebells. Bloodroot began to show sunny faces here and there under old sycamores. Naturally partitioned by several streams, the park shows a versatile character; adventurous hikers could have fun crossing Dead Run where the waterfalls are quite impressive today following last night’s rain. Just in a week, Mayapples have emerged everywhere, pushing open lovely little umbrellas on the forest floor; Virginia bluebells are still bright.
Sure, I had been to Turkey Run before, but somehow its beauty had become blurred over time. It is actually close to my place.
The time of Coronavirus affords a rare opportunity for families to stay together and can be a time to rediscover the “beauty” of our loved ones. Relationships need focus and continuous care. In the age of information, we are too much distracted by the multitude of things and people out there, real and virtual. Even good relationships or those with great potential can easily deteriorate or dissipate into nothingness without concentration and efforts. This is also true for other endeavors.
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My new favorite park. On the top left is Scott’s Run (photo by a friend).