Riverwood Presbyterian Church

Pastoral Musings

Diminishing Marginal Gratitude

by Tim Lien

Intro

Every year around Thanksgiving, we hear pretty much the same thing, “We should be grateful for everything we have.” And, that statement is correct: We should be grateful for the abundance of blessings that we possess—if it’s wealth, health, or relationships. However, another question has always lingered in my head: Why is it increasingly more difficult to be thankful when we are faced with overwhelming and unprecedented material riches? Is it a spiritual deficiency? Are we too jaded and calloused to the varied exhibitions of leisure and entertainment? Or is it simply because we don’t pause and reflect enough? Well, most likely, it’s a little of all of those possibilities, but I think there is more beneath the surface.

Diminishing Marginal Return

The academic world of economics has described (in fancier terms) what Job’s friend, Zophar, describes in Job chapter twenty. As Zophar describes the behavior and eventual outcome of the wicked, he makes this comment in verse twenty:

“Because he [the wicked man] knew no contentment in his belly, he will not let anything in which he delights escape him.”

Unsatisfied and ungrateful, the wicked man chases every possible fancy and pleasurable pursuit, and, yet, the more he plunges headlong into hedonism, the more he is dissatisfied and, consequently, ungrateful. This, in turn, leads to an increased drive to quench his discontentment—and the ugly cycle continues. Increased pleasure-seeking yields less and less return. Economists refer to this as the Law of Diminishing Returns or Diminishing Marginal Return. These erudite terms describe the benefit that you will receive from each additional unit that is purchased or gained. Although I was unable to fully articulate this concept, I discovered Diminishing Marginal Return during high school. Since money was tight, I was only able to purchase one CD at a time. My third CD that I purchased was Tom Petty’s Full Moon Fever. (Right behind AC/DC’s The Razor’s Edge, and UB40’s Promises and Lies). I listened to it non-stop. I can still hum every song on that album. I appreciated that album. You might even say I was even “grateful” for that album. And then I got a job. Those early paychecks were spent rather quickly. In fact, I blew an entire paycheck at the music store—buying more than 20 CDs at once. Although those CDs were purchased for around $15, I wasn’t getting my $15 worth of enjoyment, because my time was limited. With each additional CD that I would subsequently buy, their individual worth was decreased, because I could not possibly listen to all of them during the course of a day, week, or month. The following principle emerges from this example: With every additional car, house, or toy that is acquired, their relative value (or “return”) decreases (or “diminishes”). We will experience less and less fulfillment from buying luxury items, because they can do less and less for us.

Value and Cost

Traditionally, scarcity has defined value—if something is rare, then it must be valuable (diamonds, for example). However, modern economists have updated that concept with, yet another term, “maximization.” Since time is scarce, there is a limited amount of hours to be given towards any certain activity. So “value” or “cost” becomes what you are willing to give up for what you really want. One can get more money by working harder, but it will also come at the expense of having less leisure time. One can eat more turkey, but it also means that you will eat less of the pumpkin pie. One can drive the Hummer, but it also means you will not be driving the Mercedes. Jimmy Hopper recently expressed this sentiment when he told me that he “doesn’t have any time to read inferior books.” That statement was neither snobbery nor moral restraint. He was simply saying that reading pulp would mean that he could not be reading excellent literature during the same time span. Inevitably, there are trade-offs. And so “value” or “cost” can be properly referred to as “opportunity costs”—or, what you would give up to get something.

Mundane Yet Fulfilling

Although paying our monthly bills is a boring (and, at times, depressing) task, we receive the most fulfillment and contentment when we spend our money on these things. According to a recent study, Americans feel the most “fulfilled” when they spend their money for the basics of survival: food, shelter, warmth, and clothing. Surprisingly, it was not an act of generosity, tithing, or as a result of hard labor that produced this gratification. However, this can be described using the Law of Diminishing Marginal Returns. The basics to survival have a high Marginal Return. We will trade an enormous amount of “money” or “opportunity cost” to insure that these things are in place. Miss a meal, forget your jacket, spend the night camping somewhere, or get a toothache—and these things become far more important than the paint-color in your living room.

Conclusion

Following this line of reasoning, it is not surprising (nor cliché) to hear what everyone is thankful for around the Thanksgiving holiday. The usual suspects make their appearance: nourishment, family, God, and clothes. At one time I would have thought that these would have been shallow responses. However, they powerfully demonstrate what people view as a high Marginal Benefit. Today, in the Tuscaloosa News (Tuesday, November 21, 2006, Section D, page 1), there was a column that highlighted a group of local junior high students. Each student was asked the perennial question: “What are you thankful for?” Almost to a person, the responses were identical: food, family, God, house, school, and clothes. Coincidence? No. Shallow? Another resounding “no.”

We are not discontented or ungrateful because we do not have, we are not thankful because we have too much. And if we are thankful, it is precisely because God has, indeed, supplied “our daily bread.”