
A fifteenth century Prussian astronomer could have predicted that we would be having loud and embarrassing arguments about the color of our coffee cups, if he had thought about it.
Nicolaus Copernicus (1473-1543) is mostly known for proposing that the sun, rather than the earth, is at the center of the solar system. Copernicus spoke five languages (Latin, German, Polish, Greek, and Italian). He studied extensively in medicine, canon law, astronomy, and philosophy. He acted as a secretary and personal physician to his uncle, Lucas Watzenrode the Younger, who was the the Bishop of Warmia, a semi-autonomous region of the Prussian Empire in what is now Poland.
In 1526, Copernicus published a study on the value of money titled Monetae Cudendae Ratio. This document first set forth the idea that would later become known as Gresham’s Law, after Thomas Gresham. Gresham’s law is the principle that a relatively overvalued currency tends to drive a relatively undervalued currency out of circulation. Imagine that two types of coins are circulating at the same time: 100% gold coins and coins that are only 50% gold. If both of these coins have the same nominal value, then people will spend the 50% coins and hoard the 100% gold coins, until all the pure gold coins are hidden in mattresses. It’s often stated as: “bad money drives out good money.”
You still aren’t clear on how this could possibly have anything to do with coffee cups, right?
Every year around the holidays, Starbucks provides a seasonal coffee cup. This cup often includes a simple, non-offensive holiday symbol, like a snowflake or a reindeer or a gift-wrapped box. This year, Starbucks offered a simple red cup, devoid of any design. Virtually every human being in the world paid absolutely no attention to this innocuous design choice.
However, a fellow named Joshua Feuerstein immediately took great umbrage, asserting that Starbucks’ omission of a Christmas symbol was the opening volley in this year’s War On Christmas. Mr. Fueurstein is a cartoon version of a televangelist. He has a YouTube channel and a substantial Facebook following that he uses to advance the most simplistic and banal religious sentiments imaginable. Mr. Fueurstein published a post on Facebook asserting that by removing symbols of the holiday in favor of a plain red cups, Starbucks was showing that it “hates Jesus.” He further posted a video suggesting that his followers ought to tell the Starbucks barista that their name was “Merry Christmas,” in order to trick those unwitting soldiers in the war on Christmas to sabotage the secular agenda by writing “Merry Christmas” on Starbucks cups.
The reactions to Mr. Fueurstein’s posts were predictable. A number of his followers echoed his sentiments, shared his video, and retweeted his post. The media reported on the story with a tone of “look at those crazy fundies.” The non-religious took advantage of a perfectly good opportunity to mock the idea of a war on Christmas and the misplaced priorities of the religious right. Donald Trump, ever willing to play drums for the idiot brigade, said he would be likely to cancel Starbucks’ lease in one of his buildings.
In short order, damn near every person in the world who identifies as a Christian was placed in the ridiculous position of feeling obliged to state that (1) Christians are not generally offended by the red Starbucks cups, and (2) they think this guy is an idiot, too.
There is a repeated theme, among the conspiracy-minded, that much of news reporting is designed to distract from the real issues. The typical post says something like “while you were arguing about Kendall Jenner, the United States bombed dozens of civilians in Syria.” In the next few days, we will start seeing those posts: “while we were talking about Starbucks cups, the Federal Reserve decided to print money on the skins of endangered snow leopards!” Or something.
Here is where Copernicus comes in. These outbursts of manufactured outrage are hardly engineered distractions. For people like Fueurstein, who have mastered the art of the absurd provocation, they are a cheap bid for attention. The cost in thought, effort, and talent used to generate likes and shares by pulling one of our cultural fire alarms is substantially less than the cost of obtaining social media attention by initiating thoughtful discussion of important issues. In the attention economy, ersatz controversy is the cheapest currency. And what did Copernicus tell us about overvalued currency? Bad currency drives out good.
So another few news cycles passed without any honest discussion about the role of religion in a pluralistic society, or any discussion of how to foster an active spiritual life in a culture driven by consumer pressures, or even a discussion of whether we should tolerate paying $5 for a double latte. Cheap ideas drive out valuable ones.
Nicolaus Copernicus (1473-1543) is mostly known for proposing that the sun, rather than the earth, is at the center of the solar system. Copernicus spoke five languages (Latin, German, Polish, Greek, and Italian). He studied extensively in medicine, canon law, astronomy, and philosophy. He acted as a secretary and personal physician to his uncle, Lucas Watzenrode the Younger, who was the the Bishop of Warmia, a semi-autonomous region of the Prussian Empire in what is now Poland.
In 1526, Copernicus published a study on the value of money titled Monetae Cudendae Ratio. This document first set forth the idea that would later become known as Gresham’s Law, after Thomas Gresham. Gresham’s law is the principle that a relatively overvalued currency tends to drive a relatively undervalued currency out of circulation. Imagine that two types of coins are circulating at the same time: 100% gold coins and coins that are only 50% gold. If both of these coins have the same nominal value, then people will spend the 50% coins and hoard the 100% gold coins, until all the pure gold coins are hidden in mattresses. It’s often stated as: “bad money drives out good money.”
You still aren’t clear on how this could possibly have anything to do with coffee cups, right?
Every year around the holidays, Starbucks provides a seasonal coffee cup. This cup often includes a simple, non-offensive holiday symbol, like a snowflake or a reindeer or a gift-wrapped box. This year, Starbucks offered a simple red cup, devoid of any design. Virtually every human being in the world paid absolutely no attention to this innocuous design choice.
However, a fellow named Joshua Feuerstein immediately took great umbrage, asserting that Starbucks’ omission of a Christmas symbol was the opening volley in this year’s War On Christmas. Mr. Fueurstein is a cartoon version of a televangelist. He has a YouTube channel and a substantial Facebook following that he uses to advance the most simplistic and banal religious sentiments imaginable. Mr. Fueurstein published a post on Facebook asserting that by removing symbols of the holiday in favor of a plain red cups, Starbucks was showing that it “hates Jesus.” He further posted a video suggesting that his followers ought to tell the Starbucks barista that their name was “Merry Christmas,” in order to trick those unwitting soldiers in the war on Christmas to sabotage the secular agenda by writing “Merry Christmas” on Starbucks cups.
The reactions to Mr. Fueurstein’s posts were predictable. A number of his followers echoed his sentiments, shared his video, and retweeted his post. The media reported on the story with a tone of “look at those crazy fundies.” The non-religious took advantage of a perfectly good opportunity to mock the idea of a war on Christmas and the misplaced priorities of the religious right. Donald Trump, ever willing to play drums for the idiot brigade, said he would be likely to cancel Starbucks’ lease in one of his buildings.
In short order, damn near every person in the world who identifies as a Christian was placed in the ridiculous position of feeling obliged to state that (1) Christians are not generally offended by the red Starbucks cups, and (2) they think this guy is an idiot, too.
There is a repeated theme, among the conspiracy-minded, that much of news reporting is designed to distract from the real issues. The typical post says something like “while you were arguing about Kendall Jenner, the United States bombed dozens of civilians in Syria.” In the next few days, we will start seeing those posts: “while we were talking about Starbucks cups, the Federal Reserve decided to print money on the skins of endangered snow leopards!” Or something.
Here is where Copernicus comes in. These outbursts of manufactured outrage are hardly engineered distractions. For people like Fueurstein, who have mastered the art of the absurd provocation, they are a cheap bid for attention. The cost in thought, effort, and talent used to generate likes and shares by pulling one of our cultural fire alarms is substantially less than the cost of obtaining social media attention by initiating thoughtful discussion of important issues. In the attention economy, ersatz controversy is the cheapest currency. And what did Copernicus tell us about overvalued currency? Bad currency drives out good.
So another few news cycles passed without any honest discussion about the role of religion in a pluralistic society, or any discussion of how to foster an active spiritual life in a culture driven by consumer pressures, or even a discussion of whether we should tolerate paying $5 for a double latte. Cheap ideas drive out valuable ones.