Economics

Alternate Steves: Ohio High Speed Rail

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

My speculation on how different economic and cultural trends could have affected us continues. I’m taking a look at how things may have been different for all of us, using my life as a lens.Today, a fave of mine, the Ohio High Speed rail, which had been speculated on for decades. I wonder what would have happened if it had come to be in the 90s, when I first heard of it. Continuing infrastructure issues were one of my turnoffs living in Ohio.

Let’s check in on another Steve, who watched his home state evolve with high speed rail. What’s he blogging about in alternate 2025?

In college I remember applying for graduate schools, and only one was in Ohio. Turns out I was never going to leave, and I honestly credit the High Speed Rail. Yes, there was a time it didn’t exist, stop making me feel old. At one point we’d killed our rail system.

But anyway here’s my personal take on the Ohio High Speed Rail.

So there I was in the early 90s, guy with a degree, no real plans past that, and living in Ohio. There were a lot of us, judging by the overload of business majors that graduated during my time. You saw some disillusioned people pile up that was for sure.

My idea was to take my psych major and maybe work in city, county, or state services. While I applied for that I made ends meet by temping, which a lot of my friends did. In senior year I’d fallen in with some folks from the college radio station and we’d gotten a place and by place I mean “apartment that was nerd barracks.”

It wasn’t the greatest of course. But somewhere in 92 or 3 I think the High Speed Rail got approved. I hadn’t even heard of it, but I wasn’t as political then.

The High Speed Rail getting approved was both a miracle and obvious. It was a miracle as I’d never felt Ohio was as big on public works as some places, and this was linking Cleveland, Columbus, and Cincinnati. It was obvious because most of Ohio is flat and we didn’t have much of an economic identity in my humble, resident opinion.

How it got pulled off was a miracle and there’s a reason there’s multiple books and that one indie comedy film about it. It was several disparate interests coming together, a small amount of bribery and double-dealing, and a grassroots campaign that was wildly entertaining in its own way. It felt a bit out of control, which was really why it worked.

Different elements and different interests didn’t so much conflict as amplify each other. There were businesses who wanted a piece of the rail system. Small towns on the way to the major cities wanted a stop in their city (more on that later). Politicians wanted to look good and of course make Ohio about something as the last time it made history was Neil Armstrong. There was certainly more enthusiasm for it than, say, the Big Dig.

Sorry Boston, no one made a Big Dig comedy. The Big Dig was a comedy.

The economy started changing as soon as things began moving on the rail, and me and my crew, temping away, figured that this was good for us. But also I realized that temping aside, I didn’t want to bounce around from assignment to assignment even if there were more options coming up. So since I foresaw things getting better, despite my limited knowledge, I made a move in my career.

I decided to get out of the field temping and aim at being a recruiter. The way I figured is that Ohio was actually stepping up it’s game and there were going to be opportunities. Why be the guy taking the temp assignments and contracts when I could set them up? Also that was a portable skillset in case I decided to head out of the state.

Also to be honest, government looked less and less interesting. Yeah, we got the High Speed Rail, but as that was going to dominate things for a decade. I’d temped at enough construction companies I knew that wasn’t for me. Also Ohio government may have pulled off the Rail, but uh, it had it’s moments.

So as things spun up to build the High Speed rail, that was my pitch to the agencies I contracted through. “I’ll temp now, but yeah, I want to get into the office,” and just kept learning and pestering people until things worked out and I got an in-office job. I was the guy placing people in positions, which really meant interviewing people, schmoozing, and record-keeping, but I was good at all of those.

Meanwhile around me Ohio was changing. The rail project brought in interest and money, and business – especially tech. It started slow at first, but around the time the Mansfield and Jefferson hookups happened, you could feel things catch fire. It took seven years from start to finish, but things were definitely changing around the three or four year mark.

Me, I happily kept doing recruiting and, pre-emptively, started doing work further and further outside of the Columbus area (it was still called that back then). Why not spend a few days in Cincinnati? Why not do a week in Cleveland? Why not manage some phone interviews. Ohio was getting smaller in a big way.

I also have to shout-out to my very understanding wife who put up with a few times I wasn’t around for a week.

When the rail was working, then things shifted a lot more. Because Ohio had some real advantages but the big one was it was cheap.

You’ve got a state that has connected its major cities and it’s also incredibly low-cost to live in. Land is flat, there’s plenty of it empty, and you can get a house cheaper than you can on the coasts. Sure you put up with snow and maybe not quite the culture you wanted, but if you lived in Columbus, you had options. Plus on the weekends you can travel to other cities to indulge, I dunno, whatever you wanted to indulge.

People moved in because it didn’t cost a lot and you had all the things you need. Also, as an Ohioan, I always felt my state was unappreciated.

One thing that was not foreseen was the “small town/big city” boom. As the lines were building out, smaller towns became a lot more accessible to the big cities. When the rail was done, you could save even more money by not living in the big cities. Mansfield itself, between Columbus (now Armstrong) and Cleveland, was the place for many people. Lebanon made out really well, even if it was more touristy.

I mean I won’t lie, multiple mall towns were happy with the rail, but not all were happy after the rail. But it worked out on average.

At some point the access, the good rep as we actually did the thing, and the low cost had a multiplicative effect. Me, that was the peak, since I got paid more the more people I placed, and I racked up quite a lot of money.

I also burnt out past a certain point. It took about 20 years, but there I was in my 40’s and I had the year but also it was a year. It was time to change, so I slowed down, took a break, and lept to plain-old HR. Ended up at OSU of all places, more set hours, more paperwork over schmoozing, senior recruiting and benefits.

Still in Ohio, which had changed far beyond the economics.

It was demographic. I would not have believed thirty years ago that someone would get the state to change the name of the capitol. But the whole “honor the local son by changing it to Armstrong” campaign worked. I admit “named after murderous lost guy” and “name after first guy on the moon” seemed to be an easy decision, but even I had my doubts.

It was reputational. Ohio wasn’t the place you expected innovation and there we were, being role models. You know multiple rail projects were based on ours? People don’t talk the Bay Area, they talk Ohio, when they talk rail projects. Remember the Canada conference, with the Saskatoon attendees?

Sometimes I wonder what Ohio would be like if it hadn’t happened. But by now it’s hard, I just can’t imagine Ohio without its high-speed rail lines. I can’t imagine not being able to bop over to Blue Ash on Friday to hit the restaurants. Even if I had a tough few years before my break, I can’t imagine not running around between the cities.

But somewhere out there, there’s a Steve who probably left Ohio as not much was happening. He didn’t have a High Speed Rail, and I feel kinda bad for that guy.

Steven Savage

The Emptiness of Business Idiots

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

Sorry for the lack of posts. My fiancee got COVID and I took care of her while she isolated, while work was busy, the holiday was happening, etc. So I sort of wasn’t thinking of my columns for awhile. But now I’m back, and it won’t surprise you that I want to discuss my latest mental chew toy, Ed Zitron’s idea of Business Idiots – people who live in the world of vibes, leading while disconnected, having deliberately sought out their disconnected state of power.

Now a strange thing about Business Idiots is that they really do seek a state that is purely performative. If you’ve ever listed to a podcast with some overpromoted idiot with a business degree or a TED talk that is making the audience cringe you know. There are people who have worked their way up the ladder because their only skill is working their way up the ladder.

Ever see a politician good at winning elections and not much else? Wait, don’t answer that, we all have, and we probably voted for one at least once. That’s a Business Idiot.

The thing is these Business Idiots are posing as something they aren’t. Visionaries, geniuses, great leaders. The thing we don’t want to admit – and they don’t want to admit – is that all they are good at is working their way in the system. If there was no “system” they might not be in power, but their sole skill is twiddling the knobs of our culture.

Kind of like people who treat talking to AI as a skillset. Hmmm.

I find it’s hard to actually see this because the business press and hell, the press in general, loves to laud some vapid moron they have access to. They need that access! So they’ll parrot whatever is said to get clicks and sell issues, and the vapid idiot just gets more powerful. However, I recently found a way that helps me understand Business Idiots.

Social Media. Wait, trust me on this, it’s not “old man yells at cloud time.” It may be old man yells at CROWDSTRIKE now and then, but trust me.

I was recently contemplating the utter vapidity of some modern social media stars, which is easy as we have a lot of examples. They’re good at promotion, they’re good at algorithms, they optimize their thumbnail images. They are in short good at marketing, because a lot of social media being about clicks and selling ads, is primarily a marketing machine.

I’m sure you know some teeth-grinding examples. You know the Social Media figures you hate (as opposed to the ones you love that are virtuous and good).

This Social Media manipulation is a skillset. It can get you rich and famous because you’re tweaking a giant social-technical-financial machine. You didn’t build the machine, you don’t work on the machine, but as a user you spend a lot of time figuring out how to work it. So you can reach great heights – and be insulated from reality, and thus a form of Business Idiot.

The thing is on your way up you don’t necessarily get good at anything else. You’re a salesperson and an attention-getter and that’s pretty much it. You may be famous and powerful because our systems love centralization, but you’re not really anyone but the same person podcasting or videocasting about their latest purchase.

Now when I look at these media stars and work backwards it’s a lot easier to see how our social, media, and financial systems can be taken advantage of. You don’t need any skills but hacking a complex system people are used to and that they probably didn’t put a lot of thought in. You don’t have to be anything but a knob-twiddler if you know the right knobs.

And that’s where we get Business Idiots. Worse, people who are quite competent get taught to twiddle the socio-economic knobs, become Business Idiots, and lose whatever they were.

And you know? You can’t run a complex society that way. As, I fear, we are finding out.

Steven Savage

The Un-Measurable Cost of Bullshit

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(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve’s Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

As my regular readers are painfully aware, I feel a lot of the world is awash in bullshit, and the technology world triply so. We’re sold products we don’t need, that don’t do what we want, from companies who will then collapse and be sold off for parts. Meanwhile too much of the media celebrates innovations that basically burn money and forests while delivering nothing but stock prices. And if you think you know what I’m talking about, once again don’t be so sure, I have a long list of grievances.

And I wonder how much does this stuff cost us? I’m not just talking money, but time, social damage, environmental damage, and having to clean up after it all falls apart.

I think it’s hard to measure because a lot of the economic bullshit is now a loop.

Investors invest in each other and the people they know to get a return, even if a service won’t provide anything. Media breathlessly starts a hype cycle about nothing, and will do it again weeks or months later having learned little. Bookkeeping flummery keeps the real costs off of the books and out of view. Environmental impact is exported. There’s a giant cycle that occupies a lot of time and resources to keep people from asking what time and resources are being consumed.

And we do it all over again repeatedly and more rapidly.

We can’t measure costs of all this meaninglessness as it moves too fast, doesn’t have enough data, because of made-up data, and because we’ll do it all again anyway. We know there’s bullshit in the economy, but we can’t penetrate the veil of it to figure what it costs us until the bill becomes due the hard way.

It’s enough to make you wish you could yell “stop” and we’d all just stop inventing stuff for ten years so we could pick up the pieces and see how much people were lying. And yes, I thought about how long that freeze should be.

I have the unsettling feeling that an enormous amount of our economy is waste that yields little more than line go up for a tiny amount of people. But I’d like if we could pause and find out.

Pause voluntarily, that is. Judging by the way our climate is changing, we’re gonna get a pretty hard pause involuntarily.

Steven Savage