"I'm a Cardless Person"

Faced with that future, Featherless fights back

Just before Jimmy Carter met last week with auto industry leaders, TIME Contributor John Skow received a phone call from his friend Featherless, the pundit who wants the Democrats to nominate Franklin Delano Roosevelt and argues that, given the rest of the field, no one will notice that he is dead. Featherless had an equally practical proposal for solving two economic problems--the nation's and his own.

"I 've got it all figured out," said Feathlerless, in a voice that rang with self-approval.

"Yorgumfoom?" I said, yawning heavily, because it was nearly 2 a.m. "The presidential campaign?"

"Nope, I've withdrawn from politics. The Democratic National Committee stopped taking collect calls."

"Your credit-card mess?" Featherless had been despondent the last time I saw him, because Visa, MasterCard and American Express had taken away his plastic money. "I've been declared a cardless person," he had said then, pouring ashes from his backyard grill on his head. "I'm a man without a card." He had the haunted look of a traveler condemned to shuttle reservationless between Marriott and Holiday Inn, with no Magic Fingers to strum his backbone.

"Nah," said Featherless. "I overreacted to that. I was going to take out a loan and pay all my charge-card bills, even though they were only three months overdue. Then I realized that the Government will handle it all."

"You mean a sheriff's sale?" I knew how much Featherless prized his chattel, especially his condo at Yosemite Apts. and his Tempura sports car, with a five-speed balance of payments.

"Certainly not," he said with dignity. "It'll be like after World War I, when they had all those refugees whose countries didn't exist any more. The authorities had to give them some sort of document so that they could cross borders, be taxed, and take out library books."

"The Nansen passport?"*

"That's it. Well, I happen to know that the Administration is going to do the same thing for us refugees of the credit wars. Simplistic Systems, the famous Washington Think Tank, did the planning on this one."

"How does it work?"

"Nothing to it. If MasterCard cuts your air hose, the Government comes to the rescue with a Nansen Credit Card--a Cartercard, they're calling it--and you're back in the stores without missing a beat."

"But it was Carter's idea to tighten credit in the first place."

"Well, sure, but you can't run an economy with the cash people have left over after paying the rent."

"I wouldn't want to try." It was getting late, and I had to be at the town hall early to sign up for liquor stamps. "Look, thanks for calling, and ..."

"I haven't told you my idea yet."

"Forgmoogle," I said, yawning again.

"It's macroeconomic," said Featherless, with understandable pride.

"I should hope so."

"Now listen, what's the worst economic problem we have?"

That was easy. "They don't make a good 5-c- dollar any more."

Featherless didn't think that was funny. "Look, I'm trying to get the country straightened out," he said. "Did you read about the big drop in auto sales, and the layoffs at Ford, General Motors and Chrysler?"

"Of course. It's terrible. The Government should do something."

"Good thinking," said Featherless.

"But what? One obvious idea is for the Bureau of Conscienceless Glut to buy all the unsalable, hard-to-park gas guzzlers, and distribute them free to the rich."

"Why to the rich?" I asked.

"To keep the Department of Energy from squawking. The poor would simply drive the freebie cars and waste a lot of gas, but the rich all have several hard-to-park gas guzzlers in the garage already, and can't possibly hog any more fuel."

"That's clear. But if the auto companies aren't selling their gas guzzlers, why are the oil companies making huge profits? Exxon just made $1.9 billion in three months, a 101.6% increase over its obscene profit in 1979's first quarter."

Featherless thought for a moment.

"I'm not sure. If gas consumption is down, it must mean that auto salesmen are, in their desperation, buying more hair oil."

"I'd like to sleep on that," I told Featherless. "Good night..."

"Wait a minute. Forget giving cars away. The oil company profits are the key to my plan. Right now we have an itty-bitty windfall-profits tax that does nothing but make the oil companies mad."

"I don't mind making them mad."

"Nonsense," Featherless said severely. "We could do better by making them happy. Suppose that instead of punishing Exxon, Mobil and Shell, we rewarded them?"

"They're already rewarded."

"Yes, but they feel unloved. Tell them they've done well, that they're very, very clever oil companies, and that each one of them is going to get a prize."

"You don't mean..."

"Sure. Exxon gets Chrysler. We split up General Motors, maybe give Cadillac to Sonoco, Buick to Arco. Same with Ford. Presto, sleazo, no more layoffs, no more recession."

"Wouldn't the stockholders object?"

"Which ones? If you own Chrysler stock, you've just been swallowed by the richest industrial company in the world. If you own Exxon, your corporate giant has become bigger and therefore more powerful."

"It sounds foolproof. Are there any drawbacks?"

"Not that I can see," said Featherless.

"Listen, if I'm going to get down to Simplistic Systems tomorrow, I need some sleep." Then he turned the phone over to his wife, who wanted to talk with me. "Is he nuts?" she asked.

"You can bank on it," I assured her. "If the Nobel Prize Committee calls while he's gone, tell them it's his bowling night."

*Devised in 1922 by Norwegian Arctic Explorer and Humanitarian Fridtjof Nansen, the passports were accepted in more than 50 countries.

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