Unemployment and Uninsured Data Contaminate Traditional Holiday Mood

According to the Kaiser Family Foundation, “A one percent rise in the nation’s unemployment rate is projected to lead to 1.1 million additional uninsured and 1 million new Medicaid enrollees (600,000 children and 400,000 adults), increasing overall state Medicaid spending by $1.4 billion while tax revenues fall 3 to 4 percent.”

Data from the Bureau of Labor Statistics showed that nonfarm payrolls fell by 240,000 last month, increasing the nation’s unemployment rate to 6.5 percent in October, four-tenths of a percentage point higher than in September 2008.  The October decline in jobs followed losses of 127,000 in August and 284,000 in September.

But the official BLS figures mask a somewhat more distasteful reality, not unlike the sugary marshmallow topping that covers many a Thanksgiving sweet-potato casserole.  Alternative measures of labor underutilization point to an additional under-employment rate of 4.32% in October, up 10.5 percent from September and up 40% from January 2008.  Combining the results for those formally unemployed, marginally attached workers, and individuals employed part-time for economic reasons nets a more precise U.S. unemployment rate of 11.8 percent.

In “Olden Tymes,” one might hear women and men of a Certain Age whispering the phrase “At least you’ve got your health,” over steaming cups of coffee, even in the toughest of times.  Irrespective of the calamity preceding that phrase, a modicum of thanks was reserved for the solace that could be found in one’s health.

This Thanksgiving, with the U.S. economy (I think we can safely, finally say) “in recession,” hackneyed expressions of gratitude for healthiness bring only cold comfort.  Time was that “Have you heard he lost his job?” could have been followed by “Well at least he has his health.”  Today it is clear that employment and substandard healthcare go together like mashed potatoes and gravy.

In an economic climate like this one, medical collections—and collection activities in general—are a hard sell, even if that sentimental perception is wholly divorced from the fact that creditors need to get paid in all 12 months (as opposed to just skipping that one containing the Christmas and Hanukah and New Years Eve stuff) of the calendar year.

But these are hard times for many consumers.  Thanks may be difficult to give.  And the ARM industry, (which, lest we forget, is made up of businesses confronting intense financial pressures in equal measure to the rest of the country), would do well at the outset of the holiday season to learn a Thanksgiving Lesson from the governor of Alaska before her memory fades into the wintry Juneau nights: one doesn’t have to pardon all turkeys, but reprieve in the face of slaughter is pretty difficult for most folks to swallow.