Thanksgiving: An Economic Analysis

In the summer of 1619 the International Monetary Fund issued a report about the macroeconomic prospects for the North American continent that included some alarming conclusions. At the time the IMF was staffed entirely by two men, both named Frederick, who operated out of a one-room office in Central London that they shared with a wagon wheel maker. They did also have a secretary in their employ, a woman named Mildred who, according to the gender roles at the time, was not allowed to weigh in on substantive matters.

On the IMF’s behalf the two Fredericks reported:

“Prospects for macroeconomic growth in the northeast section of the continent appear bleak, projected out through at least the mid-1620s. This forecast owes mainly to the reality that the native populations there operate in a non-cash economy, providing for their basic needs through planting and barter. Absent major economic restructuring, it is a virtual certainty that those populations will not be able to take full advantage of the large anticipated growth in the global economy projected over the next decade.”

A footnote, credited by historians to Frederick #1, added, “Exactly how long do these blokes think they can trade with cobs of corn. Hello! They need cash.”

Soon after the report’s release, the World Bank, staffed entirely at the time by Frederick #2’s second cousin Jonathan, proposed an action plan to stimulate economic development in the region:

“We recommend sending a special mission of men wearing hats with large silver buckles sewn on to them, to investigate possible products available in the region for cash exchange on the global market. We also recommend that the team wear large square white bibs on the font of their shirts, just because it would look really cool.”

The joint IMF/World Bank mission arrived at Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts in November of 1620. The rock was given its name by the Chrysler Corporation as part of a World Bank corporate sponsorship agreement, narrowly beating out a bid by the Toyota Corporation of Japan. The team began undertaking a round of community-based consultations with local tribal leaders, all of whom seemed really impressed by the hats with the large buckles.

A week later the mission team reported its findings to the native leaders, in an 85-page memo:

"Based on a rigorous and educated review of the resources available, and a careful analysis of local and global markets, in our view the best opportunity available to make the required shift to a cash economy resides in the region’s abundant turkey population. We anticipate a significant market for exports of the bird, which can later be converted, in Europe, to a variety of uses. The demand for turkey hot dogs, in particular, seems both promising in the short-term and virtually unlimited in the long-term."

The local indigenous population took the document under study for a week, and sent a committee to meet with the World Bank/IMF mission, led by Squanto, a native leader who, by chance, was also among the first graduates from the Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, three days away by horseback. According to interviews collected later, Squanto reportedly told the mission members that his people were not interested in selling the turkey as raw product, and insisted that they would undertake the industrialization of value-added products themselves. One account records him declaring:

What? You think you need to be from England to kill a bird and stuff its meat into little round tubes of skin that can fit into a bun or lay flat on a grill. Give me a break. As we speak, I have sent our best archers to guard the entire local turkey population and have, by decree, nationalized these birds as the patrimony of our people. With special loans from our friend, Chief Hugo of the Iroquois – whom I admit is a little whacko and looks silly in that red beret – we will develop a complete turkey-dog manufacturing sector. You want the dogs Mr. Oscar Meyer; you’ll pay us a fair price!

Dismayed by the rejection of their educated guidance, the members of the IMF/World Bank mission issued a warning that no additional economic aid would be forthcoming until the native tribes adjusted their policies to be in accord with the group’s recommendations. When reminded that neither the IMF nor the World Bank provided the local tribes with aid, an exasperated Frederick #2 is reported to have said. “Alas, perhaps someday.”

In the meantime, seduced by the allure of the local weather and abundance of corn, the members of the mission decided to stay in the new continent, setting up a conservative policy think tank with the financial backing of Mr. Orville Soros, a wealthy financier from Hungary.

Months later, at the end of the autumn harvest season in 1621, Squanto and his people threw a great feast to celebrate the opening of their fifteenth full-scale turkey-dog factory, and the signing of a $10 billion dollar, 95-year contract to the Spanish navy. The former members of the IMF/World Bank mission were invited to attend the feast, and were served all the turkey dogs that they could eat.

“Well Squanto, I have to hand it to you,” Frederick #1 is reported to have said, in a toast delivered at the feast. “Who would have thought that a tiny population such as yours could have pulled off such a large scale industrialization as this one? You have forced us to rethink all of our macroeconomic doctrines.”

“Thank you,” the native leader replied. “But let me ask you a question. Those large white bibs on your shirts. What the hell were you guys thinking?

Happy Thanksgiving to all from The Democracy Center