COLUMN: Economics and drinking really aren’t so different

Jon Crosbie Columnist

So I was sitting in class contemplating whether or not I should eat my highlighter in order to break the monotony of a very boring lecture. I realized, however, that there was a reason that I was bored to the point of marker consumption. The problem was that I found no practical application of the principles being taught. When I say practical, of course, I am referring to stuff that applies to me, not to people paying attention.

Well lucky for you, Iowa State, I compiled a list of several reasonably complex theories given to me over the years in order to present them in a way that benefits you, the hardworking student.

The first thing we can look at is a concept in physics called “refractive index.” Essentially, light passes through various materials at different speeds and changes the way you can see through something. I understand that you may be saying to yourself right now, “Jon, I’d rather pee on an electric fence than study this.”

Au contraire, mon frere. (Old English for “think again, my frere”).

It was pointed out to me by my old rugby coach, Dan Gazda, that a very practical application of refractive index is found in something other than camera lenses. I am, of course, referring to wet T-shirt contests.

Gazda hypothesized that water changes the overall refractive index of an opaque shirt to one that you can see through.

There is some question as to whether or not the see-through effect happens just because the cotton expands, but when I asked my lab instructor about it, she told me to shut up and do my assignment.

This is something that I feel should be researched extensively by Iowa State. I, however, cannot study this due to a combination of academic commitments and having a very cool girlfriend who puts up with this column every week.

Before she dumps me, let’s move on to an economics theory called the principle of diminishing marginal returns. This essentially states that for each additional unit of anything you acquire, each unit will provide increasingly less utility.

You are yawning out there and I can see why. This, like most economics, sucks. But any economics professor worth his or her proverbial salt will tell you to research this principle by drinking beer.

Your first beer will be medicinally refreshing and tasty as can be. Eventually, it will start to taste like an old gym sock. Your job is to figure out when this happens — and all of a sudden, economics becomes fun. By all means, Iowa State, research this phenomenon thoroughly.

About this time, I’m sure that the liberal arts students would appreciate some love, so let’s move into ethics. More specifically, ethical relativism.

Relativism is kind of annoying. When a person says that something is good, a relativist will tell you that it’s only good relative to something else. It is all relative to what good is initially defined to be, which is usually too much of a pain in the ass to figure out, so most people go study the principle of diminishing marginal utility at the bar. Before I thought about it, I wanted to punch most relativists in the mouth. Then I realized the power of this theory. Listen up gentlemen, because this is the dating tip of a lifetime.

If you surround yourself with several idiot friends, it gives your girlfriend a different idea of what a good boyfriend actually is. It’s all about giving her a frame of reference. Your girlfriend might think you are a slob, but what happens if she sees that your pal Moose had too much to drink last weekend and went to the bathroom in his pants? All of a sudden, you’re golden. I would encourage all of you to find your own useful applications of your class work.

After all, benefits found in this column almost covered the last tuition increase.