We are very lucky we live in a society that puts faith into something that isn’t tangible. If we didn’t have faith and took a look at our economy’s foundation, we may find ourselves in a panic. That’s because the foundation is our faith and we have to believe, or face financial ruin. The people of Yap use round stones with holes in the center as currency and trade them for goods. The size of the stones represents its value, and sometimes stones are too big to move. In these cases the ownership of the stone changes without the stone even moving. It’s amusing to imagine a world where people trade wealth without physically exchanging anything of worth. Of course it gets less funny when we realize that we do the same thing on a larger scale. We couldn’t trade stones in front of our houses for goods online and so we turn to even more abstract means. Trying to figure out what wealth is in America is both intriguing and down right terrifying. When you break past the surface it’s shocking to see how little we have.
When we go to work, we make money. We’re given a piece of paper that we bring to a bank to make it into digits on a computer. From there we can remove those digits or exchange them for more paper. We can use these paper and digits because America has collective understanding to believe that this is wealth. But almost everyone would agree, paper isn’t precious in America. There isn’t anything backing this paper and as a result we operate on a complete system of faith.
This system is incredibly frail and countless economic crises have proven just how much trouble can be caused by loosing a whole bunch of nothing. At this point, it’s too late to return to a more tangible system like bartering, which leaves us in a predicament. Some argue that money is a good currency because it is in short demand, but that can change so frequently that it is hard to really believe that it is reliable. Recently the government has printed more and more money to try and revive the economy, but its lead to unanswered questions about the value of the dollar. At this point we might as well play along or risk loosing our sanity over the matter. The story of Yap is such a fantastic one. At first we feel superior, that we’re more civilized and cultured than the silly and quirky Yaps. However, it doesn’t take much to realize that we’re not much different at all.
Hey Professor! As always, feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Feedback provided, —DSH
Original Sentence: At this point in time it’s hard to really do anything and we’re left to exchange stones no one can actually see.
Adding Cows and Chips: At this point it’s essentially impossible to make a big change. We might as well try our best to believe that green piece of paper is more valuable than the stack of white ones in our printers.
Your rewrite is certainly an improvement, John, but I wonder if you upgraded the right half of the sentence. “really do anything” isn’t vastly improved by “make a big change,” whereas “hard to really do anything” could add cows and chips to it benefit: “At this point, it’s too late for humanity to return to bartering cows for potato chips . . . .” Agree?
OK, John. Now to the feedback.
P1. This is a stunningly good opening sentence! It makes two very strong and intriguing claims that, I hope and trust, will be immediately redeemed by details that will satisfy our curiosity but also raise additional questions. Bravo.
Sentence 2: Don’t lose your momentum, John. If you tell me I’m lucky to have faith in something intangible, the next thing I want to know is: What’s so bad about faith in something tangible.
Scenario 1, I’ve read the Yap story for myself. I picture myself putting faith into a gigantic stone disk with a hole in it. Then your sentence delays that discovery. The one after that imagines exchanges without any stone trading. Now I have no idea why I’m lucky to have faith in the intangible. I’m lost.
Scenario 2. I haven’t read the Yap story, so I have no idea what your second sentence is about. The third sentence doesn’t help. The paragraph is lost on me.
Both scenarios squander a magnificent opening. S1 we can fix by capitalizing on my curiosity. S2 we cannot afford under any circumstances. You’re obligated as author to provide readers with necessary background to understand your essay. You can’t assume they’ve read the sources.
So, where do we go from: “We are very lucky we live in a society that puts faith into something that isn’t tangible”? How about:
Do you see what I mean, John? Once you’ve posed the proposition that we benefit from “intangible” transactions, you need to demonstrate two things quickly (and with physical objects if possible: cows, chips, pillowcases); 1), that abstraction serves us well, and 2), that tangible money wouldn’t work.
I hope that’s enough feedback to help you with your Rewrite. I can’t wait to see how much better your second effort will be. As for P2 and P3, I will only say here that the primary change you need to make in the Rewrite is to eliminate the personal reflection part that was perfectly appropriate for the first assignment. The Rewrite is a short but analytical essay, not a personal reflection about how your mind changed during the assignment. OK?
Replies are always appreciated. 🙂
Hey Professor! I hope you enjoyed your not spring break. I’ve made some changes and was wondering if I could get some feedback. Thank you.
-John
Feedback provided. —DSH
Hey John.
P1. This is an entertaining opening, serious but jokey. Writing essays and writing jokes are closely related. The sequence of paying out the details and the timing of the punchline are essential in both.
You say Lucky, Faith, Intangible. Faith, Basis of Economy, Panic. Basis of Economy, Faith, Ruin. I think the Panic turn is unnecessary and the joke is funnier moving directly from Intangible to Ruin. We are lucky to live in a society that believes in the intangible. Our economy is based on nothing but faith and without our belief we’d be ruined. Lucky, Faith, Intangible. Basis of Economy, Faith, Ruin. It goes in from luck through faith to the intangible, comes back out through faith to ruin.
I’d recommend a paragraph break before the Yap so the transition is better understood.
“gets less funny” or “seems less peculiar”? The rest of the paragraph is really fine. I love the simplicity and clarity of the observation that we couldn’t trade big stones for stuff online. And I regret now that I see the value of your “downright terrifying” that I removed Panic from your opening joke. I would try to put it back now to save this echo of the fear of feeling nothing beneath our feet. Maybe there’s still good advice inside that advice that you can use AND save the panic note.
P2. John, I hope you agree with me about the power of these clear, tangible illustrations. We understand everything about this paragraph almost implicitly. Meanwhile lurking just inside the bland details is the clear observation that all the transactions are so phony and made-up that we would never trust them if we hadn’t grown up with them.
P3. You’re on such a roll. Spell it right, please, but “loosing a whole bunch of nothing” is a real nail. (loosing. lead. :()
The transition back to Yap is clumsy, especially because fantastic is unclear. When your paragraph is about fantasy, the word fantastic is ambiguous.
P4. Again I recommend a paragraph break before the Yap, and a more developed re-examination of the fei in light of what we’ve seen of our own currency in your essay. Those stones didn’t always move, but the Yap could always rap their knuckles on them. And, since it was devilishly hard to get more of them, they had a stability we might envy. That sort of thing.
Very nice work.