An anonymous reader e-mails: “I was accepted into an out of state university and decided to go there this fall. But now I’m having second thoughts. Should I stay in Florida instead? Why did you decide to pick Clemson instead of staying in state?”

This question is eerily similar to one posed by a former student five or six years ago. Out of sheer laziness, I went through my old e-mails, found my response to the eerily similar question, and made some minor changes. Here’s my warmed-over response:

The short answer is that I always knew I wanted to leave Florida, partly because I wasn’t really happy about moving here in the first place (when I was 8). I think it was a bit of leftover Yankee snobbery– which was ironic since I would end up bunking just a few hundred feet from the home of John C. Calhoun.

The longer answer: when I was a freshman in high school, a lot of my classmates already knew where they wanted to go to college and what they wanted to do. I knew that most of them would change their minds, but at least they had plans. And I figured it was better to have a plan that might change than to have no plan at all. So I decided to picked a career and a school and go with them, unless and until a better idea occurred to me.

I’d heard of Clemson because they had a good soccer program, even though I knew I wasn’t going to play soccer in college. I also knew they had a good engineering program (at the time, the plan was to be an engineer), and I had a couple of friends from Virginia who would probably attend. Then my cousin’s best friends got accepted there, and one of my 11th grade teachers said she was an alumna, and so on. It became my default college.

While I did apply to several other schools (none in Florida), I never really considered going anywhere else. The clincher was that Clemson offered me a full scholarship before any other school had even sent an acceptance letter.

In retrospect, not applying to Florida schools was very risky: what if I simply couldn’t afford to go out-of-state? Never mind, I wanted to leave, and that was that. But if I were in high school today, I’d definitely apply in-state because there are two incentives to stay in Florida that are stronger now than they were back then:

1. Florida’s universities are increasingly reputable. Bigger applicant pools have allowed them to select better students and attract better professors. To be frank, this is partly a byproduct of the strong athletic programs.

2. The Bright Futures program makes it more likely that successful Florida students will attend Florida schools.

If you stick to your decision to leave Florida, I can almost guarantee that come October, you’ll feel homesick and think about going back (I did; midway through my freshman year I applied to UF and FSU). When you feel those pangs, ignore them. It’s not that Florida is a bad place; it certainly isn’t. But it is important to live away from home for a few years, partly to challenge yourself, partly to cultivate your independence, and partly to build an appreciation for the home you left behind. You can always return later.

Whatever college you choose, once you’ve made your decision, don’t waste a second worrying about the other colleges you could have attended. If you work hard and keep the grades up, those other colleges will still be there for grad school or your doctorate.

I hope it helped the first time around, I hope it helps this time around.

Gram would’ve turned 102 today. At first, I honored her by posting the following picture of her dad and three of her seven siblings, thinking that she was holding the pickaxe:

But then it was pointed out that the axe-monger is actually Gram’s younger sister, Nancy. I don’t know exactly what is going on here, but I’m sure it was perfectly innocent and legitimate. I’d like to know where her other brothers were that day, leaving their sisters to toil with axe and barrow. The father looks a little ticked.

So I will now try again by posting this picture of Gram and me a few years ago:

I don’t know why the first aid kit was there on that particular occasion. Anyhow, now that I’m fairly confident that the woman in this picture is, in fact, my grandmother… Happy birthday, Gram! In your honor I shall now dine at an Italian restaurant and criticize the chef.

An afternoon nap dream:

It is night. I stand outside a mountaintop villa. Parts of the villa hang over the slope and are supported by broad stainless steel beams. The walls are mostly floor-to-ceiling glass, and reveal a well-lit, simple modern interior. No one is inside.

The hosts have still not arrived.

…

No idea.

Today is my grandfather’s birthday. Here’s a picture of baby Grampa with his parents in 1900:

When this picture was taken, McKinley was still President. There were only 45 stars on the flag. Airplanes, televisions, and electronic computers didn’t exist, and telephones were luxuries. Einstein hadn’t published his paper on relativity. The keel of the Titanic hadn’t been laid. The Cubs hadn’t won their back-to-back championships. Oil hadn’t been discovered in the Middle East. The Great War was still years away.

What strikes me most about this picture is that every last strand of that insane-lookin’ hair was still anchored to his scalp on the day he died. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a haircut like that on a baby.

Grampa would’ve turned 112 today if he hadn’t died repairing the ship’s antimatter converter.

An anonymous reader e-mails: “What do you honestly think of President Obama? By this, I mean his social and economic policies of course, not of him as a person.”

I am, on net, not a fan of President Obama’s social and economic policies. To keep this simple, I’ll just list some of his policies and call them either good or bad. (Before anyone jumps in with “but Bush did the same thing!” or “but Clinton would have done the same thing!” or “but McCain would have done the same thing!” or “but Romney wants to do the same thing!”, let me say: yes, I know. And it was, would have been, or will be just as good or bad when he, she, or it did, would have done, or will do it.) Here goes.

He granted waivers from No Child Left Behind. That’s good. He’s pushing Race to the Top. That’s bad.

He repealed “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” That’s probably good. I don’t believe there’s a fundamental right to serve in the military, but if the military functions better without DADT, then good.

He lists “empathy” as a criterion for his judicial nominees. That’s bad. Or rather, that’s bad if he considers empathy more important than, say, “impartiality” or “knowing what the Constitution says” or “understanding legal precedents.”

He put Joe Biden a heartbeat away from the Presidency. That’s bad. That’s real bad. He got Joe Biden out of the Senate. That’s good. That’s real good.

He vetoed the Keystone XL pipeline on what I think are flimsy grounds. That’s bad. He expanded oil drilling in Alaska and the Gulf of Mexico. That’s good.

He is pursuing policies that over-promote alternative energy. I editorialized by using the modifier “over,” which is a pretty sure sign that it’s bad. He approved construction permits for nuclear power plants. That’s good.

He opposed using secret ballots to vote on unionization. That’s bad. He made free trade agreements with South Korea and Colombia. That’s good.

He supports net neutrality. That’s bad.

He continues to prosecute the drug war. That’s bad. He has not stopped the raids on medicinal marijuana dispensaries in states that have legalized them. That’s bad.

He wants to raise the top marginal income tax rate. That’s bad. He hasn’t actually done so. That’s good.

He campaigned on raising capital gains tax rates. That’s bad. Now he’s talking about lowering the capital gains tax rate from 35% to 28%. That’s good.

He wants to raise the minimum wage. That’s bad.

He bailed out auto companies. That’s bad.

He passed the “cash for clunkers” bill. That’s bad.

He passed the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, a.k.a. “ObamaCare.” That’s bad.

He has not delivered anything even remotely approximating the “net spending cut” he promised throughout the 2008 campaign. That’s bad.

He passed a massive economic stimulus bill. (Here’s where the economist in me moves away from “good” or “bad.”) I think it is somewhat responsible for lowering U-3 unemployment, but I am increasingly convinced that it was not worth the cost. I believe less and less in stimulus as time goes on– the Bush stimuli didn’t seem to do much, and the Obama stimulus hasn’t done much unless you genuinely believe that the economy was so much worse than anyone ever could have imagined that the stimulus was necessary just to keep us afloat. I don’t buy that.

…

In short, I think the bad outweighs the good, and he should have spent a little more time visiting and actually listening to the econ department while he was at Chicago. Fire away.

A former student recently directed me to this “not particularly good article” (her words, with which I concur) and asked for my comments. I sent her some brief comments; hopefully I helped clarify just how confusing the issue really is.

The article got me thinking about how to make our tax system more “fair,” which got me thinking about the futility of worrying about whether our tax system is “fair.” In my book, there are four ways a tax system can even remotely approximate “fairness.” Here goes:

1. Each person pays the same income tax rate. This is called a proportional or flat income tax. It would be “fair” because everybody would pay the same percentage of their incomes in taxes. Divide “total tax revenue desired” by GDP, and you’ve got your flat tax rate– pretend it’s 20% (the actual calculation would be much more complicated than that, but you get the idea). But a purely proportional/flat income tax won’t happen because there are some folks so poor that the 20% tax would keep them from covering their barest necessities. So, “everyone chips in 20% of his income” is unfair.

(So then you design a standard deduction to allow people to pay for the necessities, and then the 20% flat rate kicks in– after the first $10K per household, we all pay our 20%. But then you get into an argument about whether it’s fair to have a deduction at all, and if so, how large it should be, and what constitutes a necessity, and so on. And then you run into the argument about whether there’s any difference in principle between “a single tax bracket above a standard deduction” and “multiple tax brackets above a standard deduction,” and you run into the arguments over what should count as income, and eventually you run right back into the mess we’re in today.)

2. Each person pays the same consumption tax rate. This is a sales tax, equally applicable to all finished goods and services. The arguments regarding fairness are similar to those in #1 above. However, there’s one additional argument that consumption taxes are unfair: they are regressive relative to income, i.e., the poor tend to spend higher percentages of their incomes than the rich do. This happens because the rich can afford to save more of their incomes. Consumption taxes don’t (immediately) hit savings, so sales taxes would likely consume a higher percentage of poor incomes than rich incomes. So, “everyone pays the same sales tax” is unfair.

(So then you start exempting certain necessities from taxation in order to make it easier for the poor to afford them, which begins to reintroduce progressivity to the tax system. But then you get into the same arguments as before about what constitutes a necessity, and companies fight to have their products declared tax-free. Or you design a FairTax-style “pre-bate,” a stipend equal to the taxes each household would pay on necessities, and you get into similar arguments about necessities and the size of the pre-bate, and gosh-darn-it, why do all households get them, instead of just the poor ones?)

3. Each person pays the same capitation or head tax. This would be “fair” because every person would pay the same amount. Divide “total tax revenue desired” by total population, and you’ll know the amount everyone should pay. You don’t have to use total population– you could use total number of households, or total number of adults over 18, but you’ll invariably run into arguments over whether it’s fair that everybody pays the same amount. Furthermore, folks would call this “unfair” because it’s a regressive tax, like the basic consumption tax in #2. So, “everyone chips in five bucks” is unfair.

(There’s no way to even attempt to make this less unfair. It’s, like, totally unfair.)

4. Each person pays for the goods and services he receives from the government. It would be “fair” to calculate the exact value of the benefits a person receives from the government, and charge him for it directly– so if I get $11,000 in benefits from the government, I owe $11,000. But what good would it do to provide government services to the poor and needy and then turn around and give them the bill? It would defeat the point of a transfer payment or a welfare payment. So, “everyone pays for what he gets” is unfair.

(So then you try to get people to pay directly for those government services that economists consider “private goods,” and have the rest paid for out of other tax revenues. But then you’re right back to the problem of the poor not being able to afford those particular services, so then you scale back the number of services that are directly financed, and then you’re right back where we are today: with few government services paid for directly by the end-user. Furthermore, it would be darn difficult to calculate the bill on a person by person basis, because the invasiveness and precision of the record-keeping would be prohibitively expensive.)

…

Bottom line: in economics, there is no such thing as “fair.” This sentiment– this reality– is reflected in this, the prototype for my future family crest.

…

If you’ll forgive a weak analogy: taxation is a bit like drawing blood. Some body parts can handle the needle and the bruise better than others, but the whole body loses the blood. True, the loss is not evenly distributed– loss of blood from a toe is much different from loss of blood in your brain, heart, or lung– but it still affects the whole body to some extent.

If you can’t make taxation fair, at least try to make it efficient: draw taxes from the economy as painlessly as possible, and be careful not to drain so much that the whole thing breaks down.

…

Exhausted; will worry about editing later.

…

[Updated 10:35 PM, 4/24/12] Edited, and hopefully more clear now.

In my “Resolutions for 2012,” #11 was “I shall make an 11th resolution before April 30th, 2012.” I now have one.

I am ashamed to confess that I have never seen the Bears play in person. But this fall, I shall atone: the Jags will host the Chicago Bears in October. And I will be there, come hell or high water.

It’s at EverBank, not Soldier Field. It’s an inter-conference game, not a Black-and-Blue division rivalry game. It will certainly be uncompetitive as the Bears roll to a Superfans-esque 78-point victory. But I’ll be there, brats and beers in hand.

I do hereby resolve that:

11. I shall attend the Bears-Jaguars game on October 7th, 2012.

I’ll even have some Malnati’s and Portillo’s shipped in for the occasion. Game Sunday, heart attack Monday.

Today I took my first little baby step towards becoming a cyborg. The entire transformation will last years and will surely end up costing far more than the mere $6 million they spent on Lee Majors way back when (actually, I should say “the mere $30 million” to account for inflation). They haven’t even invented most of the technology necessary to transform me into the undying mechanical abomination I’ve long aspired to be, but a dental implant is a decent starting point.

They put some numbing gel in my mouth, shot some lidocaine in there, started drilling, shot some more lidocaine in there when I made it abundantly and profanely clear that I could feel everything, resumed drilling, screwed in a dental implant, and put a cover screw on top of that. After a few months of healing to ensure osseointegration, they’ll screw in a pin, pop a crown on top, and voilà! A brand new number 31.

At first, it’ll just be a regular crown, suitable for chewing and attracting odontophiliacs, but after I save up a little more I’ll experiment with an audio implant to link to my cell phone. Or maybe, one far-off day, I’ll replace the crown with a tiny computer that links wirelessly to a heads-up display in my eyeballs or my visual cortex.

Something not quite as far-off in the future might be an RFID implant with financial information on it. But that might be a mite awkward the first few years, because until RFID teeth become more popular, I’ll have to hold my face close to scanners in order to use my credit card. And to avoid high-tech thieves, I’ll have to wrap aluminum foil around my head most of the time.

Or maybe it’d be a good way to store medical information in case of an emergency, if the medics had RFID tooth-scanners. Teeth are pretty tough to destroy, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s tougher to knock out an implant than a natural tooth, so that’s as good a place as any to keep electronic medical files. Also, it could provide faster identification if I ever get amnesia, or if my corpse is so horrifically mutilated that my face is unrecognizable, or if my fingerprints are unusable, or if the lynch mob simply doesn’t want to give my name.

We’ll examine proposals for step two in the next few weeks– talk R&D, funding, permits and all that– but for now, I’ll be content to resume chewing with both sides of my mouth.

An anonymous reader e-mails:

So, seeing as you know a lot about economics, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the economic ramifications of a large corporation like “Large Corporation” donating shrink/ old product to organizations like “Loving Charity.” I am trying to understand why “Large Corporation” donates so little and throws away so much, and it was pointed out to me that there are apparently economic ramifications, but no one seems to be able to clearly explain to me what they are. Something to the effect of it costing more to donate the product than to throw it away and count it as a total loss, and something about donating too much of the product resulting in the product becoming devalued. Like I said, I don’t quite understand it, so I was wondering if you knew anything about this. Thanks!

Please note that I pseudonymified the corporation and the charity. Also, Anonymous Reader, please note that “Large Corporation” does make donations to “Loving Charity”– google it– though perhaps not as much as one might like.

That said, I think you’ve pretty much got the answers already.

Maybe it’s more profitable to destroy the leftovers than it is to donate the leftovers. Maybe writing off the destruction as a profit-lowering cost would lower Large Corporation’s tax bill more than claiming a charitable deduction would. Or maybe the cost of moving the leftovers to Loving Charity is greater than the cost of simply throwing it out.

Or maybe they’re worried that by donating leftovers, they’re propping up Loving Charity as a competitor in the market for those products. They’re afraid consumers will buy the product second-hand at a discount (a 100% discount, in the case of Loving Charity) instead of buying it from Large Corporation at the higher price.

These answers are not different from what you wrote in your questions. I don’t know the actual answers, because I don’t run Large Corporation, I don’t know their numbers, and I don’t know their tax situation.

There may be other plausible reasons; I’ll take suggestions.

Dear President Obama,

On behalf of my fellow citizens of the United States of America, I hereby implore you to end the FDIC’s entirely unwarranted prosecution and persecution of Jim McMahon over this trifling matter of $104 million in bad bank loans. Mr. McMahon is undoubtedly innocent and his involvement with Broadway Bank was clearly not meant to start no trouble.

Given recent events, the attention of your Department of Justice would be better focused elsewhere.

Sincerely,

Vincent D. Viscariello

P.S. Could I get a free yard sign this time around? I ask only because your campaign charged me twice what the McCain campaign did back in ’08.

“Future Parent and possibly Teacher…15 years from now” e-mailed a series of questions. Here are some brief responses:

“Where do you see us standing in terms of education quality 15 years from now?”

It’ll be better at some schools, worse at others, and roughly the same at still others. There will still be the traditional models of school that we have today, there’ll be experimental models, and there’ll be many more alternatives in terms of charter schools, study centers, and online programs. I can’t say whether education quality will improve on average. It’ll be interesting to see how the public systems react to increased competition.

“Would you advise between public, private, or competent homeschooling?”

Not if I don’t have additional information. There are some public schools to which I’d rather send my kid than certain private schools. There are some private schools to which I’d rather send my kid than certain public schools.

But then I supposed that with that modifier “competent” in front of “homeschooling,” that’s the answer I’m supposed to pick, isn’t it? The most commonly heard objection to homeschooling is that it doesn’t get kids to socialize with other kids. That may be true, but there are plenty of other opportunities to socialize with kids of similar age (sports, arts, clubs, volunteering, religious activities) if you take advantage of them.

“Do you believe it’s likely the school system will see a turn towards improved education over this timeframe?”

Some parts will, some parts won’t. Some places will, some places won’t.

“And lastly, a twofur. What are some of the worst changes that have been made to the system…”

I’ll limit myself to those changes that’ve been made since I started teaching.

1. Grade recovery, a.k.a. learning recovery. In Duval County, we allow students who earn a quarterly grade of D or F to attempt to raise that grade as high as a C. In theory, it’s not a bad idea; why not give students another opportunity to learn the material and show that they’ve learned it? In practice, I think the net effect has been negative. Too many kids attempt to game the system by screwing around one quarter and making up for it the next, and more often than not, it doesn’t work out the way they hope.

2. The abolition of the unexcused absence. Technically, they’re still on the books, but if you skip my class you are entitled to make up everything you missed for full credit. Unsurprisingly, the number of absences seems to have increased.

3. The 90-minute A/B block schedule. I don’t have research in front of me, but I’d bet good money that there are plenty of studies out there that show that generally, kids learn skills and content better by having shorter classes more often (say 50-60 minutes every day) instead of longer classes less often (90 minutes, alternating days).

4. Excessive standardized testing. I’m a big believer in standardized testing, but at some point, diminishing marginal returns kick in. It feels like we’re overdoing it.

5. Excessive Advanced Placement. Thanks to the obsession with the Newsweek and WaPo rankings, our district decided to shove as many kids as would fit into AP classes, regardless of preparation. The results have been ugly and expensive.

There are others, but those are the first that spring to mind.

“…and what are some “core” attributes of successful teaching or of an educational system?”

See the list above? Start with not-those.

I think it comes down to the “three R’s.” The better a school system is at teaching reading, writing, and arithmetic (and I mean arithmetic, not mathematics), and the better it is at reinforcing and further developing those skills throughout elementary, middle, and high school, then the better it will be at teaching the students everything else. So check to see how far a school system will let kids go without those basic skills. The further kids can go without those skills, the worse the school system is.