Barter, Baby, Barter - Sharon Astyk

The first year we lived here, Eric’s job was half-time, and we (Eric, me, Eli, new baby Simon) lived on 17,000 dollars a year. About half of that went to our mortgage, since we were trying to pay it down quickly. $3K of the remainder when to replacing the well lines, which exploded the first time it froze. It was very little exaggeration to say that we had no money. What we did have was time - despite the fact that I was pregnant or had a new baby, Eric was teaching only about half time, and I was home with the kids, claiming to work on my doctoral dissertation, but really not doing any such thing. From our efforts to substitute time for money came a whole lot of good things - first our gardens, then our small CSA, which made a big dent in our budget. And a whole lot of barter.

In those first few years, we bartered a number of things - babysitting for our kids, a time-shared vehicle with another family, vegetables and gardening help for help with other projects, eggs for firewood. I remember experiencing every transaction as a breath of air - here was something that I could not afford in dollars, but that I could fairly and honestly obtain for my family and offer something good in exchange - and know that although we couldn’t afford credit card fees and borrowing, we had a measure of credit that didn’t come with fees - the good credit and relationships that came with barter, and that meant that neighbors were willing to go out of their way for us, because they knew we’d do the same.

We have a bit more money now, but we still barter a lot - for example, I barter the use of our large pasture and day to day sheep tending work for lamb, help with fencing and wool. I have gladly bartered my books for other author’s books, and happily accept barter for participation in my classes (although many people still use paypal, since it can be hard to barter long distance). I still feel that sense of gratitude whenever I have a bartered relationship with someone - the idea that we could function out of the money economy is a great joy to me.

Which brings me to the marvellous Barbara Ehrenreich’s latest essay, which is just a delight - in it she properly takes aim at the idea that the newly unemployed should work full time at job hunting, and argues that this is keeping us artificially passive. She offers a list of useful things one could and should do with their time, now that they are unemployed, to which I’d like to suggest “get as far out of the money economy as possible.” Now this is not a magical panacea, and for households with a single earner, or multi-earner households where all earners are unemployed, at some point, someone is going to have to get a job if at all possible, even if it is a crappy one.

EDIT

http://www.energybulletin.net/node/48866

Trying to find a job is not a job
Keeping the unemployed busy is an exercise in denial -- and social control.

n most parts of the world, from Paris to Beijing, mass unemployment brings the specter of mass social unrest. Not here, though, where 13 million people have accepted joblessness with nary a peep of protest.

Many reasons -- from Prozac to Pentecostalism -- have been cited to explain American passivity in the face of economic violence. But the truth may be far simpler: In America, being unemployed doesn't mean you have nothing to do but run around burning police cars. Unemployment has been reconfigured as a new form of work.

http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-ehrenreich3-2009may03,0,4064609.story?ref=patrick.net

I've posted before that the current climate makes the "act like looking for a job is your full time job" idea insane. It's only going to mire you in frustration and despair. When jobs are plentiful, such an attitude makes sense. When jobs just aren't out there, it makes you look totally bonkers.

I coped with the massive 1973-74 unemployment by calling it a sabbatical. My ex and I did every free tourist thing we could find, and in Boston, that kept us very busy. When the economy finally improved, our mental batteries were recharged and we were ready.

My dad coped with the 1958 recession by finishing the basement into a party room, knotty pine as far as the eye could see.

There are times you just need to go with the flow. Going back to school is a great idea if you hated the work you'd been doing. Waiting for the economy to improve, taking patchwork jobs until it does, makes more sense if you liked what you'd been doing.

What doesn't make sense is wearing your your work clothes while sitting in front of your computer and digging through everything on Monster.com and other online agencies.

If you're going to be that nuts about it, at least wear grubbies.

it also assumes you can continue to keep a roof over your head, put food on your family, etc.

I think a lot of families that lose a job are immediately put into a huge bind by onerous mortages, combined with being upside down on said mortage, etc. That may not have been as big a problem in 1958 and 1974.

and since it was an upgrade, I think the mortgage was probably onerous.

I was paying Boston rent in 1974. That should speak for itself.

Being compulsive, wearing work clothing and doing busy work would have been exhausting and counterproductive, wearing out the work clothing while producing nothing.

I had savings plus unemployment insurance. During that period, I taught myself how to cook well enough that restaurants weren't a temptation.

When there are no jobs out there, time can be used productively, more productively than suiting up and obsessing.

I'm not sure how to articulate this, but I suppose what I'm wondering is, what advice would you give this guy:

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_mesg&forum=389&topic_id=5644642&mesg_id=5644642

If there are no jobs, maybe there is something else he could do, but you can see why he's not feeling very relaxed about it.

That being, in a medium of face-to-face barter exchange (typically between neighbors or members of the same community), a significant shift in outlook takes place. Namely, rather than being worried about getting the best deal on your own end (possibly with the corollary of taking slight advantage of others) in a money economy, barter with people you know makes you instead focus on making sure that you are GIVING the best deal.

I have developed a small barter exchange network with one of my neighbors. I have agreed to help her out with some minor home repairs or modifications over the summer. She has offered to babysit our daughter for an hour or two at a time so my wife and I can get out by ourselves once in a while. Furthermore, she has a 5-acre woodlot that she has agreed to let me use as a source of firewood.

However, when she offered the use of the woodlot, she had also told me that she had to pay over $200 per cord of wood over the winter -- she's recently divorced, and can't do all of the harvesting herself. When I heard this, even though she offered me pretty much free reign in the woodlot, I thought for a second and told her that we'd split anything I was able to get out of the woodlot.

Given her circumstances and the social dynamic of barter exchange, I wanted to be sure that I wasn't in any way taking advantage of her in the firewood deal -- if anything, I wanted to be sure that I was GIVING the best possible deal, which is what led me to offer for us to split the wood, even though it will mean MORE work for me.

Additionally, when I grow my garden, I always plant way more than what I need. I then give away food to friends and neighbors -- partially out of the hope that they are more amenable to helping me out with something I can't do myself down the line.

Based on this experience, I agree with Sharon that barter exchanges between people significantly contribute toward developing a sense of community between those involved in the exchange.