ow much do you reckon a Simpsons-themed bowling ball (with no finger holes) is worth?What about a doll of 1990s cult sit-com character Steve Urkel, or a 1987 Toyota 4 Runner (that doesn’t start)? Well, depending on your tipple, respectively it’s a carton of apple cider, a six-pack of cider and about 12 cartons of Heineken.
It has long been the unofficial economy of “the favour”. Help a mate move house? Just buy us a carton. Do some pruning for your next door neighbour? Just buy us a carton. But now, thanks to the internet — and largely Facebook — it has become a genuine economy.
The Perth Beer Economy is no joke. It has 55,000 members who offer up all sorts of goods and services in exchange for alcohol.
As the administrator of the site points out: “This group is intended to reflect Australian values of mateship, respect, equality and helping each other out.” And, generally, its members abide by that ethos.
Though it is in a legal “grey area”, the concept is about as Australian as John Williamson singing Waltzing Matilda while manning a barbecue, sipping a VB and watching the cricket. And it seems kind of apt to write about a beer economy on a day Australians are generally known to indulge in the amber liquid.
But besides being hilarious and slightly worrying at the same time — no doubt members of the anti-drinking public health school find this whole economy abhorrent — the Perth Beer Economy is actually part of a wider trend — the online economy.
One example is crowd funding. This is where, through sites such as Kickstarter, everyday punters can become “shareholders” in a company by pledging money to a fledgling business or idea in exchange for an equity stake. That stake is generally in the form of the product itself or some sort of specialised service, as crowd-funded products don’t generally exist until they are actually funded.
Another is the sharing economy, which corporations such as Uber and Air BnB claim to be a part of. This is where users effectively bypass the “middle man” and negotiate the use of a service directly with the owner.
And then there’s cryptocurrency, more commonly known as Bitcoin. For those unaware, Bitcoin is the world’s biggest decentralised online peer-to-peer payment system.
No single governing body oversees its transactions, and though its intentions were admirable, it has become the currency of choice for the black market. For example, Federal authorities say cryptocurrency is used by Perth recreational drug users to buy their product over the dark web (websites that hide their IP addresses to escape the authorities).
But ignoring its darker elements for the moment, Bitcoin itself pretty much embodies the whole online or digital currency movement.
For those who use it, it is great. For those who don’t, it is weird, scary and unnecessary. And last week Mike Hearn, one of the original members of the Bitcoin movement, declared the end of the “Bitcoin experiment” — a prediction later brushed aside by its avid users.
“Bitcoin has failed because the community has failed,” he said. “What was meant to be a new, decentralised form of money that lacked ‘systemically important institutions’ and was ‘too big to fail’ has become something even worse: a system completely controlled by just a handful of people.”
So what does it all mean? Well, as more and more of the world comes online, there are bound to be more online currencies, in all sorts of formats. And if you have a spare bowling ball lying about the house (with no holes), you might be able to supply drinks for your next barbecue.
https://au.news.yahoo.com/thewest/a/30656360/how-beer-is-buying-entry-to-a-new-online-economy/
