Economy class computing - Fallout #36

Last year there were 100 reported incidents of air rage on UK airliners. Almost all of those involved long distance travelers, seated in economy class (or, as the air crews call it, cattle class).

Having just returned from a trip to Europe (22 hours in the air) I can sympathise. There's only so many times you can watch Arnie get beaten up by a woman ('Mine eyes! The goggles do nuttink!') or have your butt kicked in chess by seat 36G. Economy long haul seating is the modern equivalent of the iron maiden -- initially the seats look comfortable and accommodating, but after about four hours your arse is begging for mercy and you'll confess to just about anything (if Air Stewardess Natalie reads this, I only stole those Pringles because my cousin dared me and, honestly, all my underwear is men's).

During those hours of purgatory, my clouded mind turned to more pleasant thoughts: my computer. There she was, sitting alone at home for three weeks (yes, my PC is a girl -- since the loss of her dongle). Three weeks is a long time to be apart, and it was all I could do not to call out her components.

In those tortured hours, I thought back to researching and buying each part of my Ms Frankenstein... and something odd occurred to me. Even in computers, there's a distinct class of entry based on price. An economy, business and first class option for each component, effectively sorting the plebs from the elite.

I recalled my search for a 19in monitor. Charlie's PC Barn had them set out in a row, like Indiana Jones and the Holy Grail. The economy level was a no-name beige box with a screen so curved you could roll it down a bowling alley (no thanks). Business class was an Acer, with a few buttons on the front, and a dot pitch so big the screen looked like a Greek mosaic (not for me). First class was the massively expensive Sony Trinitron, a legend in its day, with brilliant colours and a box so big you could use it as a granny flat. Ah yes, I had found my Grail.

It was then I realised that I could never travel the road of economy computer class. Every fibre of my being urged me to take the Sony, although my budget said it was either that or not eating for the next month. Suffice to say I got a lot skinnier.

The monetary decisions we make are a constant source of interest for economists: why does one person buy a screen that's twice the price of another when, on the surface, it looks like it does the same job? It's a term known as 'propensity to consume'. Apparently there are three things we get from buying something: a value based on the use we'll get from it; an investment value, or how much we can sell it for when we're done; and a consumer benefit -- how much we personally value owning the item.

Consumer benefit can't be accurately measured, simply because it varies from person to person. For me, buying a nice monitor means I can show it off to my mates, and I know that I've done a really good thing. For my mum, buying one monitor or another makes bugger-all difference, because they both do the same job in the end (crazy, I know). That's the basis of consumer benefit.

So I went out and bought the Sony Trinitron, and have loved it ever since. My mum, coincidentally, owns a no-name tube that she runs at 640 x 480 (apparently it can go higher, but the text blurs so much you can't read it). Economists would say that we're both justified, as we've both spent exactly as much as the value we've received back. Fantastic!

Which makes me wonder about economy class on long haul flights. Would I really get an extra four or five thousand dollars consumer benefit from sitting in business class? Sure, I value my spine, and I'm a contender for 'most likely to go ballistic during turbulence'. But four grand for 22 hours?

Maybe not. Which is a real shame, as I could handle a day of being pampered by stewardesses with nothing but my best interests in mind. And the better food. And movies. And lack of screaming children. And footrests that extend at the touch of a button.

Damn, I guess it's back to two minute noodles...