Campfire
JACK OF SOME TRADES. MASTER OF NONE. PHOTO: MICHAEL MECHAN
[ EDITORIAL ] What Really Makes Us Well Off
I studied economics in university. Among other basic tenets, it teaches that specialization is good. Concentrate on doing one thing really well and then trade that thing for other goods and services. This has made our society more efficient. It has also made us softer, more detached and dumber than ever. Sometimes I dream of building my own log cabin in the woods.
I’ve been meaning to patch the holes in a favorite old coat so I don’t have to head to the store and buy a new one. I imagine having a garden large enough to feed myself with bushels of fresh food. For some, this do-it-yourself ambition is a road to freedom.
Self-sufficiency means no more dependence on systems that may be unsustainable or somehow corrupted by our modern throw- away society. I applaud people who live by this ethic, but for me, this isn’t the whole picture. I really love the taste of grapefruits from South Africa. My hiking boots were made in Italy and they’re super comfy. There’s much more to this diversification of skills thing than freedom from relying on others. Think of the connection I’d have to my home after felling,
stripping, notching and stacking all the logs that make up its walls. I can’t imagine it would be the same feeling I’d get from a meeting with a real estate agent, mortgage broker and subdivi- sion developer. There’s a reason fresh vegetables grown in a backyard garden
taste better than the store-bought stuff. It’s not that we don’t earn the money to go and by our food, but the connection is much deeper when we’ve done all the work ourselves.
10 SPRING 2013 An appreciation for process is much more apparent, too, when
we take on a do-it-yourself project like this. It helps cultivate a healthy respect for what it takes to keep us alive and well. Beyond sustenance and appreciation, becoming a jack-of-all-
trades is also a worthwhile challenge. I’ve never chopped down a tree of any impressive size, let alone built a log house. I don’t know which varietals grow best in my part of the world. I don’t know how to use a sewing machine, either. Developing skills by trying new things is invaluable. Experts will undoubtedly be more ef- ficient and they may even come up with a finer final product, but leaving all the work to experts hardly makes us any smarter. This hit home when I hunkered down in my workshop to install
new wooden gunwales on my canoe for a winter project (page 58). I’m not a complete clod with a hammer and saw, but I’m no cul- tivated carpenter either. Now, I have a deeper connection to my canoe, a greater appreciation for woodworking and I’m richer for having measured wrong and made miscuts. Sure, we become experts by dedicating 10,000 hours to honing
skills, but what happens when we do so at the cost of being well rounded? I’ve learned that spending a little less time focused on my day job and a bit more time on do-it-yourself projects makes me better off, and that’s just good economics. Thanks to an in-depth knowledge of the inner workings of the world’s economic systems, Michael Mechan chooses to lead the life of a paddler.
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84