Over many millenia, mankind has fastened onto certain numbers, among its many superstitions, as talismans of good luck. Of course, there were also numbers that were deemed unlucky, even diabolical. Rolling dice to show a combination that adds up to “7” brings good fortune in a crap shoot, and for many that number in dealings of general commerce and every day life is also as good as, or even better, than owning a lucky rabbit’s foot. Certainly true in the USA and in places with a Las Vegas kind of mental outlook although other areas of the world undoubtedly adhere to a different number or combination of numbers as a symbol of prosperity.
But what about 7 hundred billion, the lucky 7 with 11 zeros after it? Or how about adding another 7? You might think that two 7s would imply twice as much good fortune as one.
Well, consider.
In terms of dollars, that would equal the latest effort by Congress to put a number on what it takes to unravel the recession in which the USA is enmeshed. It would also equal somewhat less than the amount of revolving credit owed by Americans, you know, mostly credit card debt plus a few billions of small change attributable to other improvident indebtedness, but not mortgage or car loans. It is also the same number that the Brits expect to cough up in order to free up the credit freeze there. And have you heard of the war in Iraq? Official cost around 700 billion greenbacks (although there are some who say that it is more like $3 trillion).
There is more: the “official” current budget deficit is something over $400 billion, but that doesn’t include off-budget expenditures. My guess is that if the government bean counters were committed to “transparency” (now there’s a word to dream about), the deficit would close in on our magic number of $700 billion. Then, there is the current account deficit. Guess what, right at 700 billion.
It’s not yet time to cease this catalogue of 7s. On October 9, 2008, the Dow plunged almost 700 points. Again, it did the same and a bit more on October 15.
Then there are numbers with two 7s, like the unemployment rate in California — 7.7%.
In my book — pardon me, blog — the number 7 seems to have lost its cachet as a lucky number, and has become a number to beware of, until the Dow explodes some time in the distant future with a 700 point rise. For the moment, there are many stock traders, i.e., horse players, who would say that right now a 7 ranks with snake-eyes. So, the next time you see a 7 on your side of the street, think about crossing over to the other side — unless you are looking for a Seven-Eleven Food Store where you hope to buy a 7-up.
All of this, of course, is superficial, just plain coincidence, not quite double-talk but certainly seven-speak. Interesting, but not leading very far toward a solution that will unmire the world from the deluge of 7s. However, those economists and public officials who have been honest and forthright say that they don’t know what the solution is.
So let’s move on.
More significantly, the subject raises many questions. When, how and what transformed our culture into one in which most citizens assumed they could live beyond their means forever and borrow more than they could ever hope to repay? Where did they learn about that kind of a life? Was it from their parents? Was it a derivative of laissez-faire economics? How did the guardians of the financial world, the banks, decide to toss time honored and prudent lending practices to the winds? What kind of a balance sheet would a bank show if the asset side consisted of underwater loans? Who in his right mind thought he was fooling anybody for long by packaging such loans in various forms of previously unheard of credit type securities? A wolf in sheep’s clothing it turned out to be, devouring everything and everybody in sight.
When did the “ American dream” come to mean entitlement to the good life, rather than the promise of opportunity?
How did anyone — our leaders, the wise men, the thinkers — buy into the notion that it was smart to invest untold treasure — say $700 billion — in a country whose people had never heard of democracy, didn’t know what it meant and didn’t want it anyway? Was that venture merely an extension of the credit card mania, the idea that because you want it you can have it, that we could go on indefinitely borrowing from Bejing to pay Riyadh?
That’s a lot to think about, especially all at once, so I’ll save my thoughts right now for another day and another blog.
Meanwhile, contemplate the grief inherent in the number 7 as it repeats over and over again in the daily headlines. Take a measure of courage from the lyrics of a song from Kurt Weill’s Street Scene. The words speak a sentiment that is on most everyone’s mind these days as eyes blur over with the procession of bad 7s: “Let Things Be Like They Always Was.”
Eliot Mentor
