Stardate, oh wait, that’s pajama boy talk.
It was a slow week, the surf was unusually glassy, and we were fresh out of torpedoes from the Duras Sisters, so we put into port at DS9 and I headed down to Quark’s Place for a few rounds as a prelude to a dinner date over at Tunok’s Grill. I should have known better.
The place was quiet, however, happy hour hadn’t started, so I was early.
Quark sidled up to where I sat at the bar and said, “let me guess…the usual?”
I nodded.
He returned a moment later with a pint of Guinness and a shot glass of Tribble Sweat. I picked up the pint and took a mighty gulp, draining half of it before setting the tankard down on the bar. Quark was looking at me intently.
“Okay,” I said, “what’s up?”
“Nog was here on leave recently. I’m worried about him,” Quark said.
I nodded, remembering that his nephew, Nog, had joined Star Fleet for some unfathomable reason. Quark had good reason to worry. I thought about what Star Fleet did to Woof, or Wuf, or whatever that slacker warrior wanna-be’s name is. Talk about creating a basket case.
Quark continued, “they are really brainwashing him, filling him up with all kinds of strange ideas. This time when Nog came up, he ranted on and on about what a good thing Social Insecurity is.”
“I think they call it ‘Social Security’.”
“Yeah, right, whatever. Any rate, he went on about what a good system it is for the workers as they never have to worry about retirement. The Federation taxes the snot out of them, then decides how much they can have if they live to retirement age. Which is currently something on the order of 95.”
“They’ve raised it a few times since the original concept was implemented on Earth several centuries ago,” I said, just so Quark would know I knew something about the system. “It never worked very well as they kept having to delay retirement age, reduce benefits, and raise the amount workers were taxed. There were some attempts to privatize the system, but many were lead to believe that doing so would cause the whole system collapse.”
“Right,” Quark agreed, “so they ended up having to keep doing as you said, raise the taxes, and reduce the benefits. Privatizing the system would have been much smarter, but, the point is, this the kind of tripe they have been feeding Nog. He’s going to end up worse than Worf!”
That’s his name! Worf! I remembered him well, now.
“Any rate, what Nog was spouting off about was that by paying into this system, you are guaranteed to get something back. When I pressed him how much, he said that once he retired at 115, they raised the age limit again, he would get roughly 200 credits per month for the rest of his life. So I asked him, how much per month does he put into the system. Do you know what he said?” I had a blank look, so Quark supplied the answer. “250! Each and every month. Now Nog is only 25, so by the time he is able to retire at 115, in 90 years, assuming they don’t bump it up, I asked him how long he expected to receive benefits. He said for the rest of his life. And smiled like he was really getting something good. When I asked him what the life span for a Ferrengi is, he said 90. Now the last time I checked, he can expect to be fully in the ground 25 years BEFORE he gets to receive any benefits. His defense: They have to keep raising the retirement age because the Vulcans live so much longer. ‘Besides,’ he went on, ‘it’s all in an individual account’ with his name on it. Then I asked him, when he dies, does the money in this account go to his heirs. He said no, it goes to pay those receiving benefits already, and when he retires, the people putting money into their accounts will be in fact supporting him. Now, I looked at him and said, if the money you put in to the system goes to support those already getting paid by the system, then you really have nothing saved in an account for yourself. That, and he would have to live to, what, 228 before he started receiving positive returns, getting more out of the system than he put in! Talk about a bad investment!”
I couldn’t help but agree with Quark. He may not know much about surfing, but he does know finances. I finished my first pint, and knocked back the shot of Tribble Sweat, setting the glass on the bar gently so as not to cause ringing in Quark’s oversized ears.
“Think they’ll privatize it?”
“Well, it’s doubtful. so long as so many Feddies are hoodwinked into believing that they’ll do better on such a system than thru private investing. Why can’t they be more like us, or you Klingons, who are self-sufficient, and take care of your own finances. Taxes are so much lower in either the Klingon Empire or on Ferringanar. Why, even the Romulans have a private system.”
Quark set a second round on the bar in front of me. “Thanks, Kahuna. I feel better now. At least I know I’m not the one going crazy. Next time Nog comes in, I half expect him to go on about how great the Federation is with their excise taxes on Dilithium.”
Quark is an interesting character. Sometimes, when he gets going on a subject, he just won’t stop.
Kahuna
