When running into a bout of cognitive dissonance, the choices seem to be: sit and think it through; or shout slogans and ignore the contradiction. I have long held opinions on trade that border on the mercantilist. While puttering about, I spotted a box of “Royal Tea” sitting atop my refrigerator. Putting a kettle on, I got together the things I’d need, and waited for the water to boil. That’s when I started thinking about the items I’d gathered.

And the tea leaves say…

Despite the Cyrillic letters on one side and the Imperial Russian motifs (including portraits of Nicky II and his Tsarina), the tea had probably never been to Russia. It was Ceylon tea from Sri Lanka imported by way of a company in Sacramento. The kettle had been made by robots in Japan and ordered via computer. The teacups were actually crafted by Russian hands. The spoon was one of thousands stamped out en masse in China. The gas I was burning probably came out of a fracking well in this country, but not from anywhere near as close as the honey, which was collected at a maple farm two counties over. But I didn’t go there to get it. Even that was shipped in to my local store. All while I sat on my fat ass complaining how this country doesn’t make anything anymore.

I composed a quip to share with the Glibertariat, with the ending being a play on the line “It’s good to be the King.” While I cleaned up the wording and contemplated the response I’d get from known personalities, the dissonance set in. While some people far richer than I hollered about the ‘evils’ of capitalism elsewhere, I was contemplating a cup of tea. Aside from the fact that it needed more honey, the mere fact that it was in my hands at that moment was a silent testament to the good of capitalism. More specifically, the fruits of trade. I will still argue that Ricardo was wrong regarding comparative advantage (because he was), and I still hold that it is better to be the producer and seller of goods than the buyer. But these are details of nuance, separated from the base principle that it’s good to be a capitalist.

My gut instinct is to argue against international trade. But that is a response born of emotion and not rational reflection. Too many people I know tell the same story – their job went away but their family is still here. It was my tale, too. I ended up in the Civil Service because there was nothing else around. Everything was being made overseas. Why was it cheaper to ship halfway around the globe than build locally? Many here will reflexively blame government. That, too, is an emotional response. While not completely false, it carries the same danger of becoming over-simplified dogma as blaming the corporation. The company that had sent my last job overseas had been skirting bankruptcy because it had decayed into a bloated, inefficient conglomerate with scads of redundant departments duplicating the same functions. So, they had to restructure or die. Bye upstate New York, hello Mumbai. This was not the fault of the government who had chased out the other opportunities.

Did (relatively) free trade cost me a job?

Yes.

Should I be bitter?

Not unless I forget to add enough honey to this cup of tea, I wouldn’t even have tea without the same.