The Economics of Food in Hindu Hostel

There are two states in which one can expect to meet a Hindu Hostelite: hungry and not-so-hungry. If Hindu Hostel were an economy, food would be its dominant industry. Of course, Hindu Hostel, like every other place, does not have one economics, but a large variety and dimensions of economics; and a lot of minor stories contribute towards building the larger picture. This piece is an attempt to capture the essence of the stories that determine the economics of food here.

In Hindu Hostel, food ceases being just food, and defines the political economy of the place. Where one generally eats – the mess, the different canteens or restaurants outside – defines the class structure of the hostel more than any other single parameter, brand of cigarettes coming a close second. It is easy to understand why. Hostelites live within a fixed budget and much of that is devoted to the pursuit of non-hunger. After the initial days as a fresher of going to eat together in the mess as a group, the dynamics of class dominate our eating preferences. In my time as a hostelite, I have lived with friends who frequented Food Station, others who ate lunch and dinner at the mess with snacks at the canteens, and yet others who ate only two meals, both at the mess. This choice is determined more by the ‘budget constraint’ than the ‘tastes and preferences’ that your friend from Economics talks about.

However, if we enter the hostel as homo economicus, eating only at the mess or only at Shankarda’s canteen or only at Podu’s, one imbibes a camaraderie in the Hostel that is inherently egalitarian. So no matter which budget you follow, there is not a soul in the hostel who is not excited by the prospect of the monthly Grand Feast. And cha at CMC in the dead of night is staple, even if fancier options are available to one. These acts may defy economic logic; after all, why will someone with the money to go to CCD, choose not to? But Hindu Hostel is that kind of a place. The sense of tradition and camaraderie eventually overpowers the class distinctions, helped along by the fact that they create the long-lasting memories that dry economics cannot.

The Sen-Bhagwati Conundrum

There is a popular joke that God created economists to make weather forecasters look good. However, despite the amount of popular ridicule that economists and their models face in popular public discourse, especially in the aftermath of every major economic crisis, economists have contributed tremendously towards debates on crucial public policy issues that impact the lives of billions of people. India was witness to one such debate in the middle of 2013 as two prominent Indian-origin economists, Prof. Amartya Sen and Jagdish Bhagwati pushed their ideas regarding India’s development and growth through their latest books, newspaper columns and newsroom debates.

Jean Drèze’s book with Sen ‘An Uncertain Glory’ and Bhagwati’s book with Arvind Panagariya ‘India’s Tryst with Destiny’ brought an economic debate into our living rooms like never before. However, with the media’s inherent tendency to find binaries and simplifications, a lot of the intricacies of the debate presented in the respective books were lost to those who didn’t read them. While Sen came across as an anti-growth redistributionist, Bhagwati and Panagariya were portrayed as bigoted proponents of what has come to be known as the ‘Gujarat Model’, an economic system that apparently pushes the agenda of growth above all else. A close reading of the two books by this author has revealed that both these popular perceptions are incorrect, even in essence.

Continue reading at

THE LONG RUN.

I Want A Free Lunch!

There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. Ever since monetarist Milton Friedman named as such, one of his several writings of complicated mathematical jargon, the term has been considered as the core fundamental of economic theory. Three decades hence, I have spent two years of an increasingly meaningless existence trying to come to terms with the idea. That we can get nothing that we like without sacrificing something other that we value just as much. It pretty much made a lot of sense, pearls of wisdom for sure! After all, the two years themselves have entailed the opportunity cost of living alone. Then again, there have been the experiences of a practical application of the same, every literal lunch that I have “enjoyed” over the period. The philosophy, if I may demean the word, has run thus: You have this, you can’t have that; if you eat that, this isn’t coming on your plate. Perfect economic logic. Not a fault to be found in it in decades of neoclassical theory.

So I went down for lunch like every other day (well not every) and chose doi over fish. Not a heart-breaking sacrifice that, by any means. Yet a hearty meal later, I was still hungry (blame that on the food, or on my appetite, I can’t say). And the perfection of the logic somehow lost its charm on me. Dramatic bullcrap it would be if I’d say I had one of those moments of reckoning from all the movies that have them. It’s been some time in the coming, and a week of what seems like self-imposed exile has certainly been the last straw that broke the camel’s back. It suddenly doesn’t feel wrong to want a free lunch, nor to make someone else pay for it. And by the time I got back to learn that the ratio of marginal utilities of having doi and having fish should be equal for me and some other hostelite called ‘B’, for the hostel mess to be maximising ‘social welfare’, I certainly had had enough.

If I were to write the rest of my thoughts honestly, it would be considered too inappropriate for a public blog. The gist of the matter remains that I can’t wait to get away from this empty theorising and ‘studying’ a subject that truly has miles to go in order to realise why it exists in the first place.