Quantum of Solace

It was Christmas in the physics faculty. Wolfgang Pauli, Werner Heisenberg and Albert Einstein were debating the meaning of the festive season.

“I’m telling you, Albert, it is perfectly possible for Santa Claus to be able to deliver presents all over the world in one night,” said Heisenberg. “We know very well from quantum physics that it is possible for particles to exist in different places at once.”

“That is as maybe”, said Einstein, “but as you well know I am extremely sceptical about many aspects of quantum physics. And in any case, isn’t it the case that only tiny particles can display such properties? Imagine the chaos if we could have multiple Boris Johnsons scattered throughout the galaxy.”

“To your first point, Albert, quantum mechanics has passed every test we have managed to throw at it,“ chimed Pauli. “And in any case, it is experimentally possible to create large quantum objects that can be seen with the naked eye. After all, the only thing that in theory acts to prevent the superposition of large visible objects is the theoretical postulate that a background noise field exists to prevent the emergence of a quantum state. If such a background field exists, it would give off heat and we would be able to detect it. Admittedly, it is a lot less heat even than in the coldest of fridges so it is possible that we just don’t have sufficiently sensitive instruments but recent research from Australia supports the hypothesis that this background field does not exist. That being the case, if we think of Santa as a large collection of particles, there is nothing to stop him simultaneously existing at different places at the same time.”

“And what about all those reindeer? Do they exist in a quantum superstate as well? Even if I accept the premise that a quantum Santa exists, is it really possible to generate eight quantum reindeer at the same time?” asked Einstein.

“Natürlich mein lieber Albert,” replied Pauli. “How do you think Rudolph gets his red nose? It’s the friction associated with travelling faster than the speed of light. Of course, Santa gets a lot of help. His distribution network is second only to Amazon. Imagine what a force they would be if they could get the quantum delivery part to work. As it is, I hear they are struggling to devise a quantum computer than can add one plus one.”

“This is all very interesting, Wolfgang, but has anyone actually seen Santa?” asked Einstein.

“Oh yes, I saw them in concert at Woodstock,” responded Heisenberg, who by now had started on the eggnog.

“Nein, you idiot. That was Santana,” interjected Pauli.

“Of course. Mind you, the stuff we were smoking in ’69 it felt as though we were in a number of different places at once. I was in outer space, man,” said Heisenberg. “I was feeling, how do you say, a little wigged.”

“I am glad you take it all so seriously, Werner”, said Einstein, sarcastically. “But going back to my original point, if you can generate a quantum Santa, why not a quantum Hitler, or Boris Johnson?”

Heisenberg, who at this point was feeling decidedly the worse for wear slurred, “Well maybe Taylor Swift is a quantum creation. She seems to be everywhere these days. And didn’t she once sing a song called Blank Space? How would she know unless she’s been there?”

Einstein was becoming increasingly disinterested in the conversation with his fellow physicists. His attempts to engage his intellectual peers had degenerated into bar room discussion, and he was quite glad when Heisenberg dragged Pauli away to form a conga line. Seeking to raise the intellectual tone, Einstein hailed the economist Paul Samuelson who happened to be passing.

“What on earth are you doing at the physics Christmas party?” asked Einstein.

“Well Albert, since much of my economic theory was based around the mathematics used in the analysis of physics, I feel right at home,” replied Samuelson. “And don’t forget that the heat transfer equations form the basis of options pricing models, so there is a lot of crossover between physics  and economics.”

“In that case, maybe as an economist you can shed some light on the meaning of Christmas. It’s not like my fellow physicists seem to offer much enlightenment”, said Einstein.

Samuelson thought for a minute and started to respond: “As you know, it’s the most important time of the year for the retail trade, when the bulk of toy sales occur and when the entertainment industry makes a great deal of money. We give each other gifts, whose utility is questionable, and we engage in a vastly complex process of income-constrained decision making under uncertainty. I want a Bentley, my wife gives me socks. She knows I want a Bentley, but she can’t afford one and knows I will settle for socks. In return, I will give my wife the perfume that she told me last year she didn’t like which she will add to the collection on her dressing table. There must be five bottles of the stuff by now.”

“Then, of course, there is a long tradition of hosting the in-laws, inviting them round for the traditional dinner. This in turn, is a minimax strategy, in which we provide the least unacceptable culinary option for people with different dietary tastes and requirements. Or is it a maximin strategy? No, it’s minimax; maximin is a former footballer with Newcastle United.”

Einstein took a drag on his pipe. “Ah yes, the relatives. One of the most difficult of all problems to solve. I did have a crack at solving that once – you might have heard of my Theory of Relatives. One of the most important findings was that time changes according to circumstances. A couple of hours playing charades with Uncle Bertram seems like a lifetime.”

“Still, I mustn’t keep you, Paul. I know you have important things to do. Just one thing before you go. As an economist, you must spend time thinking about philosophical matters. Have you read Marx.”

“As a matter of fact I have”, replied Samuelson as he hauled himself to his feet. “It must be these wicker chairs.”

A Merry Christmas to you and yours.

On Christmas Night ...

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. There certainly weren’t many train drivers around either, Rishi mused, given that they were on strike. Ambulance drivers, nurses and postmen were, like Christmas cheer, also a little thin on the ground this year. Rishi shivered. Ever since he had moved into his London townhouse almost three months earlier, his life appeared to be running out of control.

He had the sense that the place was haunted. The portraits of all the previous occupants gazed out on him as he went up and down the stairs to the cramped but expensively decorated apartment that one of the recent occupants had lavished so much money on. He could almost hear their disapproving whispers urging him to get tough with the unions and bring the country back to its senses.

Rishi sighed as he trudged up to bed. At least tomorrow he could shut himself off from everybody and lounge around in his underwear drinking Crème de Menthe by the pint. It may not be much but it was at least a plan. It’s not like there was a Queen’s Speech to look forward to this year. Dejectedly Rishi slumped into bed. It had been a tough year and he was glad it was almost over. A good night’s sleep was just what he needed.

A quick slug of whisky provided the tranquilliser that would send him to sleep: A deep slumber when the pressures of the job would fall away. Then suddenly he heard it. Tap-tap-tap on the window pane. One of the most secure houses in London and someone was trying to break in. Incensed, Rishi stormed over and flung open the window. And there, sitting on the windowsill, was Tony Blair.

 “What the hell are you doing there?” asked Rishi.

“I am the ghost of Christmas past,” replied Blair.

“But you’re not even dead, at least not physically,” said Rishi. “How can you be a ghost?”

“You don’t have to be dead to be a ghost,” Blair answered. “Just look at Keith Richards. Anyway, I’ve come to show you what life was like in Merrie England in the days of BC.”

Seeing Rishi’s puzzled look, Blair helpfully added, “Before the Conservatives. Here, grab hold of my arm. And do call me Tony”.

Before he could even reply, Blair reached out and for a moment all went blank. But then Rishi recovered his composure and realised that the two of them were standing in a hospital waiting room. “Where are we?” he asked.

“This is the waiting room at St Thomas’ Hospital,” replied Blair.

“But it’s empty,” said Rishi. “Is everyone on strike?”

Blair visibly bristled. “No. It’s 2010 and the place is empty because a Labour government has ensured there are sufficient staff to tend to patients quickly with the result that waiting times are minimal.”

This time it was Rishi’s turn to bristle: “Your spending plans crashed the economy,” he snapped.

“Remind me again,” retorted Blair, “how high is the public debt to GDP ratio now compared to 2010? How weak is the pound? And what about…”

Before Blair could finish the sentence, Rishi cut him off.  “What about Iraq?” he yelled.

“Brexit,” responded Blair.

Before he had a chance to think of a clever retort, Rishi found himself sitting up in bed. Had he merely dreamed his weird encounter? Whatever was in that whisky, it wasn’t good. Rishi lay awake in his bed, too pumped to sleep, when his thoughts were interrupted by a tap-tap-tap on the window. “If that’s Blair, I will push him off the windowsill,” said Rishi to himself. Flinging back the curtain, expecting to see Blair’s grinning visage, Rishi was astonished to be greeted by the sight of Liz Truss.

“Don’t tell me you’re the ghost of Christmas present,” said Rishi shakily.

“I am indeed,” replied Truss. “I’m here to show you the power of free market economics and the Britain that I created during my term in office.”

Rishi was bemused: “But you were only in the job for 44 days. How much could you actually do in that time?”

“Clearly you are not a believer in Trussonomics. Come with me to a Citizens Advice Bureau to see how the people gratefully acknowledge the power of markets to set them free,” she replied.

“Maybe not a great move, Liz,” said Rishi. “Got any other venues in mind?”

“How about any Conservative Party branch in the country?” said Truss, hopefully.

“Maybe not a great choice either given what you did to the brand,” he muttered sarcastically.

“A group of hedge fund managers, then?” She was beginning to sound desperate.

“Why would I want to mix with those peasants?” said Rishi, loftily.

“Oh, come on Rishi. You’re not exactly entering into the spirit of this exercise, if you’ll pardon the pun,” wailed Truss.

“Well, the truth is, Liz, that my life is so much more miserable thanks to your misguided tax-cutting plan.” Rishi was shouting now.

“But that was all Kwasi’s idea.” She seemed on the verge of tears.

“I don’t care. Go away and leave me alone.” He was definitely shouting.

“There are many worse ghosts than me you know,” pouted Truss.

“I really don’t see how. Anyway, I don’t believe in ghosts and I certainly don’t believe in you. I’m going back to bed.” With that Rishi slammed the window shut and realising that he was in some sort of bizarre Dickensian plot sat down to await the ghost of Christmas future, musing that it was better than waiting for the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. At this point in the story, you are probably expecting Keir Starmer to tap on the window and show Rishi how bleak and miserable the future will be unless he changes course. But Starmer never showed up, which frankly is a blessing. After all, we will soon enough see what it will bring. 

Merry Christmas to you and yours.

Tree options

After yet another disrupted year with Covid on the rampage once again many people are determined to celebrate this Christmas in a bid to inject some normality into their lives, if only for a few days. And who can blame them? Spare a thought for the hospitality sector, however, which depends heavily on the Christmas party season to generate a large proportion of its annual takings but which has suffered a rash of cancelled bookings and a general collapse in activity. Spare a thought, too, for those working over a period when most people are taking a well-earned break, notably those in the medical profession.

The history of the Christmas tree

One of the most common sights at Christmas are decorated trees which brighten up the gloom at a time of year when most European cities struggle to get more than 8 hours of daylight per day, with Stockholm and Reykjavik managing just 6 and 4 hours respectively. Although decorated trees today symbolise Christmas, they in fact predate Christianity. In Ancient Rome, trees were decorated with small pieces of metal during Saturnalia, the winter festival honouring Saturn, who among other things was the god of agriculture. It has been speculated that the early Christian church adopted 25 December as the celebration of Christ’s birthday in order to tie it to a festival that was already known and accepted by wider society.

Whatever the ancient origins, the concept of an evergreen tree symbolising life in the middle of winter became a well-established European tradition in the centuries that followed, with the modern idea of a Christmas tree originating in the Alsace region on the Franco-German border in the sixteenth century. Tinsel with which to decorate trees was invented in Germany in 1610 (although France became the world’s leading producer by the start of twentieth century). Trees started to catch on in the English-speaking world following the publication in 1846 of a picture in the Illustrated London News showing Queen Victoria, her German husband Prince Albert and their children around a Christmas Tree. In 1850, Charles Dickens’ short story A Christmas Tree described it as “that pretty German toy.” At a time when the UK has a rather convoluted relationship with the EU, it is ironic that many of the trappings of a traditional English/American Christmas in fact originate from Germany. The Germans were ahead of the game once more with the invention of the artificial tree in the 1880s in order to alleviate pressure on natural resources.

Demand has since continued to grow and no self-respecting European or North American head of state’s residence would be seen without a sumptuously decorated Christmas tree. In the United States alone, around 35 million natural trees are now sold each year; the corresponding figure for Europe is around 50 million of which the UK accounts for 8 million. Statistics suggest that two-thirds of UK households opt for an artificial tree with roughly 40% of US households doing the same.

The economics are interesting too

The economics of tree production are particularly fascinating. It takes between six and ten years to produce a natural tree around 6 feet (180cm) tall, so the tree standing in your living room today was probably planted no later than 2015. Producers therefore have to gauge the market up to ten years in advance and also cope with climatic effects which can have a significant impact on the crop. 

In terms of market trends, one of the big issues that tree farmers face is to judge the balance of demand between real and artificial trees. A decade ago artificial trees made up just 10% of the number of trees sold annually in the US – that share has since quadrupled – although in fact the number of live trees sold has remained static whilst the growth in the overall market has been driven by a surge in artificial tree sales. Another factor to look out for are changes in demand for particular variants of tree. In the 1990s, UK demand for Nordmann firs suddenly surged due to the fact that this particular variant is less prone to shedding its needles than the previously dominant Norway spruce. This was a particular problem for growers who were banking on the market remaining unchanged on a six-year horizon. However, those who spent weeks and months after Christmas looking out for pine needles trodden into the carpet now give silent thanks for the introduction of the Nordmann.

As with any agricultural product, unexpected climatic and meteorological events are the things that all growers must beware. Farmers in Oregon, the main production centre in the US, suffered a heatwave this summer which killed off a lot of seedlings in the early stages of development. Fortunately this has not done too much damage to the tree market this year since demand was met from inventory, but a shortfall could occur in 8-10 years’ time if farmers cannot make up for the hit to 2021 production levels. The result has been a modest rise in Christmas tree inflation, according to industry sources, adding to the upward pressure on prices which saw US CPI inflation hit 6.8% last month. Artificial tree producers have also had their problems this year. The bulk of production takes place in China and the rise in global transport costs in the wake of the pandemic has produced a rise of around 25% in US artificial tree prices. Chris Butler, CEO of National Tree Company, reported that “last year we paid $2,000 to $3,000 for containers and this year we’re paying in the region of $20,000.”

Of course, the big question is whether you should go natural and buy a single-use tree or invest in a multi-use artificial variant. Purists argue that there is nothing to beat the smell of fresh pine in the living room although the fact that large numbers opt for the artificial option suggests that for many the downside of jamming the vacuum cleaner with fallen needles outweighs the benefits. The huge piles of discarded trees littering collection points in early January would appear on the surface to suggest that natural trees are very environmentally inefficient. But the balance is a lot more tricky to determine.

According to the Carbon Trust, a 6 foot artificial tree is responsible for about 40kg of greenhouse gas emissions, suggesting that it has to be used anywhere between 7 and 20 times (depending on the weight and the materials in the tree) in order to match the carbon footprint of a natural tree. There again if you are sourcing your natural tree from a long distance away, the carbon footprint of the transport costs will quickly mount up. However, if ownership of a real tree is too much responsibility, you can always rent one for the Christmas period which will then be returned and replanted. Whether this is ecologically sound is a moot point but at least you can feel smug about not contributing to the huge piles of discarded trees that build up at the start of the year.

Whatever kind of tree you choose – or even if you choose not to display a tree at all – it only remains for me to wish a safe and Merry Christmas to you and yours.