What Our Generation Goes Through: An Analogy

I like to think that much of what the current leadership has been allowed to put my generation through is simply due to voters not quite understanding what they are voting on. Just in case that is true, I thought of an analogy to illustrate my frustration.

You’re sitting in a restaurant with a group of politicians who of course are planning to order the most expensive things off the menu. With how much more they make than you do, you figure they can probably afford it.

“I’ll take a stimulus to help my friend here,” the one just to your left announces to the waiter. To you he adds, “Most of it won’t actually stimulate much of anything aside from the pockets of those paying me on the side. But I may or may not let you have a few bites too.”

“Oh,” you answer. “Well, uh, thanks I guess.”

“And I’ll take some socialized medicine,” the one on your far left says. “It may cause an industry collapse, a loss of quality, and, to be honest, it’ll require you to buy premiums later, but for a short while if you ignore how much we’ll be taxing you to start, maintain and later fix it, it’ll appear that you’re paying less.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, thinking that this sounds like a pretty terrible option.

The politician on your far left waves a hand, “Of course I’m sure. And you should be sure too. Thanks to your generosity, everyone will get delayed, low-quality, bureaucrat-regulated care, provided that they are willing to sit patiently on the waiting list. That’ll be a huge improvement from having the option of some of the highest-quality care on earth and emergency care for anyone who needs it no matter their socioeconomic or insurance statuses. There are some people who can’t afford insurance right now or aren’t prioritizing it, so it’s best we charge those who have more so that these people can receive it anyways.”

“Wait,” you stumble over that train of thought. “ I don’t really think that sounds like a good idea. There are plenty of better options that will help more people obtain insurance at more competitive rates without costing the American taxpayer so much and…”

The politician cuts you off. “I wouldn’t let those options get printed on the menu.” He snapped it shut and handed it to the waiter who had finished jotting down his order by now. “So, since this is now the only option people can choose if they want an improvement at all, that’s what I’ll have.”

You frown, but now that the waiter’s written it down, it’s out of your hands. You decide to let your political friend buy what he wishes to buy. It’s his bloated salary. “I’ll take the job option,” you tell the waiter.

“I could look,” the waiter says. “But the stimulus and health care options being ordered tonight have depleted the restaurant's supply of ingredients, so it's likely that we're out.”

“Oh,” you scan through the menu again. “Ok well I guess I’ll take the college education. Are there any of those left?”

“Sure,” the waiter said, jotting that down. “But the price on the menu is a minimum estimate and the dish may or may not come with all of the ingredients it used to.”

“Will it have ideological diversity and tolerance? I feel like that’s an important when earning an education, you know?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

The waiter clears the other menus off the table, since the friends on your right don’t have the authority to order anything. “It comes with a side of student fees to buy mopeds for the football team and fund certain student groups and ethnic groups over others according to the Chef’s tastes,” the waiter adds.

You shake your head. “Can I not get the side? I don’t really think I’d end up eating any of that anyways.”

“Sorry, it comes with the college education option.”

“Oh,” you sigh. “Fine.”

The waiter tallies it up. “Here’s your estimated bill for now.”

“Wait, what?” you ask, surprised. “I haven’t even gotten my order yet. And these guys are paying for their own right?” you glance to your left for confirmation.

The politicians shrug. “You’re the one with the wallet. We just serve your needs.”

“Serve my…” Then it dawns on you. “What?? Well I can’t afford all of this! I don’t even want it. And since I haven’t seen any results yet anyways, I should have to pay.”

“Sorry,” the waiter hands you your bill. “Results or not, you agreed to pay when your parents and friends invited these guys to dinner with you. Cash or check?”