In September 1620, my ancestors departed from Plymouth, England on the Mayflower toestablish a new home in the New World, some 3,300 miles away. They would ultimately land inNovember at what is now Plymouth, Massachusetts and immediately faced a harsh winter.About 400 years later, I also undertook a long journey to begin a new life, moving fromMassachusetts to Louisiana, approximately 1,500 miles. These two trips could not have beenmore different.
My drive to Louisiana was long. According to Google Maps, it would be approximately 24hours of driving time. To ease the burden, I decided to do three 8-hour days: Massachusetts toMaryland (Day 1), Maryland to Tennessee (Day 2), and Tennessee to Louisiana (Day 3). At theend of each day, I was exhausted. I’d have a quick dinner and fall asleep in my hotel room.Furthermore, severe thunderstorms forced me to end my planned Day 1 trip in Pennsylvania,leading to a longer Day 2. The temperature steadily rose as I headed further South, hitting the90s by the time I got to Mississippi. Naturally, this made the times I had to leave my air-conditioned car unpleasant. Eventually, I made it to Louisiana safe and sound. Needless to say,this trip was onerous.
Or was it? Compared to the Pilgrims, I traveled in the lap of luxury. It took them 66 days (about10 weeks) to make their journey. Adjusting for mileage, it would take them about 10 times theamount of time it took me to journey the same length (even longer than that, really. Over-landtravel was much slower than sea travel). I was untouched by the weather outside: no matter howhot it was outside, the interior of my car was comfortable thanks to the air conditioning. I wasnot cramped at all. The Mayflower had approximately 78 cubic feet of living space per person.My car, on the other hand, has about 106 cubic feet, and I was the only one in it. All my foodand water were safe and sanitary; no need to worry about rot or disease. I spent each night in asafe hotel room, not having to worry about the element or whether a rogue wave would sink me.I had a GPS to ensure I wouldn’t get lost. I could listen to anything I wanted (The Crown ofSwords, Book VII of the Wheel of Time series, by Robert Jordan), rather than having to listen toothers’ conversations. My ancestors would have loved those accommodations.
The point here is that technological advancement turns luxuries into commonplace necessitiesand eliminates the onerous. Outside of the poorest of the poor, a trip like the Pilgrims isunthinkable in the world today. The world is a much better, safer, and cleaner place than it oncewas.
Of course, one could object and say that such a comparison between 400 years is true butirrelevant. Things may be better than 400 years ago, but certainly not better than the 70s or 80s.But that, certainly, is just as incorrect. GMU economist Donald Boudreaux often tells stories ofwaiting in gas lines in the 70s. Don described the heat and humidity as “suffocating,” and that isan apt word. The picture used here is a screenshot of my weather app for Thibodaux, Louisiana,not too far from New Orleans. One cannot breathe easily when outside. Cars at that time had no air conditioning. If, God forbid, American politicians were foolish enough to reimpose pricecontrols on gasoline and create another shortage like the 70s, at least waiting in line would be(marginally) less onerous given we have air conditioning.
Humans love to complain. It seems to be a natural instinct as many observers notice howdissatisfied we become with improvements and how long we linger on deterioration. A greatantidote to this pessimism is to step back and appreciate how bad things once were and howgreat things will potentially be.
Jon Murphy is an assistant professor of economics at Nicholls State University.
