The Responsibility We Keep Forgetting When We Stop Thinking

Sometimes you stop and wonder. What's gone wrong with our system? On paper, it's representative government—the voice of the People. And yet, that's exactly where the trouble begins. Or it's at least where a lot of it is now.

There's an old saying. Bad data in, bad data out. If we feed a system the wrong inputs, we shouldn't be surprised when the outputs disappoint us.

We complain endlessly about ineffective mayors, governors, and local officials who seem to make everything worse. They mismanage, they mislead, they muddy the waters. But when the dust settles, who's really at fault? Is it the politicians who fall short—or is it us, the voters who put them there?

Because at the end of the day we're the ones making the choices. We're the ones who accept the promises, overlook the failures, or ignore them entirely. And when a leader faces serious criticism yet still wins reelection, it raises a hard question: how seriously are we taking our responsibility as voters?

Yes, elected officials hold power. But that power originates with us. And that means the real issue isn't just leadership. It's the quality of the electorate. As a society, we've grown less skeptical, less curious, and far too willing to accept whatever the mainstream narrative tells us, even when we suspect bias is baked into every angle.

Social media hasn't helped. Oh, sure. We think it does. We think it counters the dishonest media. The truth is, instead of encouraging open dialogue, it often creates and rewards echo chambers. People don't want to ask questions anymore. They want to be affirmed. They want to block out anything that challenges their worldview. That's not empowerment. That's self-imposed silence.

There's a quote—I can't recall who said it—that goes, "Every dollar we spend casts a vote for the kind of world we want to live in." It was meant about commerce and environmental choices, but it applies just as well to voting. If we end up with poor leadership, it's because we collectively chose it. Or, on the flip side, we allowed ourselves to make a bad choice.

Our vote matters. It shapes what comes next. It determines who holds power and what they do with it.

Blaming officials when things go wrong is easy. It lets us dodge responsibility. We can always say, "Well, I didn't vote for that person." And sometimes that's true. But the deeper question is, when we made whatever choice we ultimately made, how did we vote? Any of us. All of us. On either side of the aisle.

How did we make our choice?

Did we listen carefully? Did we research? Or did we rely on a party label, a news outlet, a social media circle, or a blogger who already agreed with us?

Ultimately, voters decide the direction of the country—right or wrong, good or bad. So, when things fall apart, at what point do we admit that some of the blame belongs to us? When do we acknowledge that maybe we're part of the problem?

People often argue for term limits. But in a way we already have them. We always have. They're called elections. If we had a more informed, more engaged, more discerning voting public, we wouldn't need set limits. Leaders who fail would simply be voted out.

But there is a catch there. It's in how we evaluate successes and failures as much as anything. Are we honest about what's a successful thing and what's gone wrong? Or do we determine that by the same cues offered from our political biases, news outlets, social media circles, and a closed mind way of thinking?

The founders never intended for unfit leaders to rise to power. They intended for the People to choose wisely—to be the penultimate safeguard of the Republic.

Which means, ultimately, that if the system is failing, it's because we are failing. We're the ones checking the boxes. We're the ones shaping the world we live in. And we're also the ones who have allowed ourselves to be so divided that critical thinking and compromise are like relics.

If we want to climb out of this mess, the solution isn't louder voices—it's sharper minds. We need to listen more carefully, think more independently, and stop outsourcing our judgement to whatever source shouts the loudest—or simply shouts the things we prefer to hear.

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© 2025 Jim Bauer

The Nationwide Penny Shortage is Hooey

Is it an honest mistake, mass confusion, opportunism or plain nonsense—you decide. Ever since the final penny was minted on November 12th by order of President Donald J. Trump, signs have been popping up everywhere warning of a "nationwide penny shortage." Stores are urging cash customers to use exact change or accept that their totals will be rounded to the nearest nickel.

Sure, sometimes the rounding works in your favor. At McDonald's the other day, my change should have been 24 cents, but I was handed a quarter instead. In another transaction, though, I ended up paying an extra 3 cents. Maybe it eventually balances out on paper, but that's not the point.

The point is this: the U.S. Mint estimates that roughly 300 billion pennies are currently in circulation. For context, the Mint typically produces between 5 and 7 billion new pennies each year, and even in 2025—after production was halted—one billion pennies were still minted. We are not running out of pennies. Not even close.

Yes, about 8% of pennies "disappear" annually—into jars, drawers, couch cushions, parking lots and the void of everyday life. But even with that attrition, the idea that we've suddenly hit a nationwide shortage is absurd.

The hard truth is simple: there is no penny shortage. We're being misled.

Whether or not this qualifies as gouging, it's undeniably dishonest. Businesses don't want to deal with pennies, and they've spotted an opportunity to quietly pad their margins even if only roughly 20% of all transactions conducted are done with cash.

Maybe it's small beans, I'll admit. But what frustrates me here is the blatant falsehood of it all. No federal authority—the president, the U.S. Mint, the treasury—has told anyone to stop using pennies. In fact, they've emphasized the opposite.

There are plenty of pennies in circulation, they remain legal tender, and people should continue using them.

So, why the signs? Why the warnings? Why the fiction of a "shortage"? It's a completely manufactured narrative, and a dishonest one.

And there's another wrinkle here. If businesses keep pretending pennies are scarce, and the government doesn't put a stop to it, then the burden shifts to nickels. That's an even bigger problem. A penny costs about 4 cents to produce, but a nickel costs 13.8 cents. Eliminating pennies, then, doesn't save money—it substantially increases minting costs. If nickels have to fill the gap for every rounded transaction, we'll need far more of them, and the financial loss grows.

Essentially, eliminating the penny to reduce minting costs falls flat.

If we ever reach a genuine penny shortage, then fine—let's revisit the conversation. But right now, the penny is still plentiful, still valid, and still very much a part of our currency system. Did they mint one billion new pennies in 2025 just to have them be obsolete and wasted scraps of copper in 2026? Hardly.

Businesses should stop at once, perpetuating a false narrative and return to giving accurate change until the last penny ceases to exist. Which, by conservative estimates, won't be until 2085.

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© 2025 Jim Bauer