Recently, I found myself reading a rather dull biography of John Harvey Kellogg, the man behind dry breakfast cereal. Despite its lackluster presentation, the book was packed with the elements that make a biography interesting—wild contrasts, vivid scenes, and sharp humor. Kellogg, like other inventors of his time such as Edison and Bell, was a mix of skepticism and belief, emerging from the early 20th century with a unique energy. However, instead of creating groundbreaking inventions like the lightbulb, Kellogg is known for promoting the yogurt enema.
Kellogg was involved in numerous movements of his time, from vegetarianism to eugenics. He was associated with nearly every cause except the Seventh-Day Adventist religion he grew up in, which he distanced himself from only because the leaders grew weary of him.
Fast forward to today, and it seems the most prominent American movement is the anti-tariff sentiment. The Wall Street Journal’s opinion pages have become the voice of this movement, though it appears many writers there struggle to grasp the real meaning of tariffs. Their writing often resembles a confused description of a mythical creature rather than a clear economic argument.
The issue with those who oppose tariffs, despite their good intentions, is their misunderstanding of economics. They often treat it like a hard science with fixed laws, missing the nuanced realities that economists like Keynes understood. He likened economics to Newton’s laws but pointed out that human motives and perceptions complicate everything.
It’s a mistake to think cult-like followers can’t think scientifically. Often, they try to find reasons behind the chaos of life, misinterpreting data and trends. Engaging with them on their terms can lead to a false sense of rationality in their arguments, which are often based on flawed reasoning.
Years ago, authors Kingsley Amis and Robert Conquest wrote a piece titled “Sod the Public,” explaining how everyday consumers were being misled by poor design and bad advertising. Much of their work was practical, addressing real issues without a political slant.
In today’s world, an updated version for American consumers would certainly highlight the decline in children’s toys. Many have noticed that Lego sets are now smaller, more complex, and more expensive, requiring adult supervision for assembly. Gone are the days of simple bricks; today’s sets come with thousands of tiny pieces and often rely on apps for instructions instead of clear paper guides.
This shift in children’s toys seems to reflect a broader trend where consultants, who often lack real-world experience, push for cost-cutting measures that sacrifice quality. They may know their way around software tools, but their advice often leads to a loss of essential elements that consumers value.
As we reflect on these changes, it’s clear that understanding the intersection of enthusiasm and practicality is crucial for navigating our consumer landscape.