Snowboarding in Europe, of course, sounds really fancy. And don't get me wrong, it can be fancy if you want it to be. But the reality is that it's also a cheaper option. And that's because the price of a single day lift ticket at most resorts in America is now many multiples of what it costs in Europe. Think $250 vs. €50.
North America has become the expensive destination.
According to a recent Economist article titled "the economics of skiing in America," resorts in Europe are often owned by local or national governments. This is not the case in America, and it's why the lift tickets in Europe seem, by comparison, cheap. But this price differential is also the result of an evolving business model.
Historically, owning a ski resort has never been a stable business in the US. And this makes sense. Most resorts make their money on lift ticket sales. However, sales are dependent on snowfall. If you get a lot of snow, then you make a lot of money. If the planet starts warming up and you don't get a lot of snow, then you don't make a lot of money. Vail has since changed this.
What they have done is made it so punitive to buy a single day lift ticket in North America, that even if you're an occasional skier, the only sensible thing to do is buy a subscription-like pass in the spring -- well before the next season starts.
This is what I have started doing and it gives you unlimited skiing for less than the price of a few days. It also gives Vail a source of revenue that isn't so dependent snowfall. Season passes now make up about 61% of their lift-ticket revenue, according to The Economist. At the same time, it is a model that relies on being able to price discriminate against single-day, non-pass users:
In basic economic theory, excessive market power reduces the efficiency of an industry. Firms reduce output so as to be able to charge more. There is, however, an exception: if a monopolistic firm can charge different prices to different customers, it need not reduce output to increase its profit. The skiing industry shows the truth of this. As the industry has consolidated, daily prices have soared, extracting more cash from price-insensitive skiers.
But this isn't the only way to do it. There's also the whole real estate thing. Last year, Reed Hastings, cofounder of Netflix, became the majority owner of Powder Mountain. And here, they're trying out a different business model:
This December, Powder Mountain in Utah announced that it would be moving to a model where only local property-owners are allowed to ski certain chairlifts. The idea is to profit from real-estate sales, by offering private skiing without the crowds. “To stay independent and uncrowded, we needed to change,” says Reed Hastings, the firm’s boss.
Even still, neither of these approaches is making snowboarding and skiing more accessible. Which is why it's not uncommon to come across stickers and t-shirts at local ski shops that say, "Vail -- ruining ski towns since 1966." People are missing the old days when lift tickets were cheap and the lines on powder days weren't so long.
What skiing needs is in fact much of what the economy more generally needs: supply-side reform, and especially the construction of new housing and transport in the most popular spots. Though there are more skiers than ever, there are in fact fewer resorts than there were a few decades ago.
This sounds familiar.
All quotes are from The Economist.
Netflix has a new docuseries out about Latin American street food. I watched two episodes of it last night. The first was about a chef from Buenos Aires, Argentina and the second was about a chef -- named Dona Suzana -- from Salvador, Brazil. Even if you aren't necessarily into food shows, it's a good way to remind yourself just how much you probably miss traveling right now.
The story of Dona Suzana is an interesting one. Before opening her restaurant, she was doing laundry in order to make ends meet. Then at one point, the City of Salvador came to her community in order to undertake a large construction project. They needed someone to cook food for the construction workers and so they asked her if she would do it.
Since she had always dreamed of being a chef, she jumped at the opportunity and took out a loan to buy everything she needed in order to fit out her kitchen. She cooked for the workers and everyone loved the food. But she never ended up getting paid. They stiffed her.
That turned her off cooking for a bit and it was not until a trio of graffiti artists were working in her community and looking for a place to eat that she tried her hand at it again. They offered to pay her in advance and persuaded her to make them something. She agreed and the food was a huge hit.
In fact, the group of artists loved the food so much that they made her a sign with the name "RéRestaurante" (titled this way because Dona has a stutter) and began sharing photos of her dishes on social media. All of a sudden she had people showing up at her door. And today she has people from all around the world showing up at her door.
This is a wonderful success story. But I think it also says something about land use policies. As far as I can tell from the episode, she setup her restaurant at her place of residence -- a community along the waterfront where her husband fishes and where she uses his catches for her renowned dishes.
Here in Toronto, we are operating in an environment where if you try and setup a coffee shop in a residential "Neighbourhood" -- like, for example, Contra at 1028 Shaw Street -- you might spend a few years fighting with your neighbors and battling it out at LPAT hearings in order to get the appropriate permissions.
I'm not necessarily suggesting that we should do away with all zoning (or maybe I am). But I would like to draw your attention to this contrast. Because one has to wonder whether RéRestaurante Dona Suzana would exist today and be known around the world had the barriers to entry not been so low for her. Of course, had there been more rules, maybe she wouldn't have gotten stiffed the first time around.
Either way, I am currently in the market for some dende oil.
Photo by Milo Miloezger on Unsplash
The below chart from this morning's Wall Street Journal is perhaps a good example of our ongoing transformation from an industrial economy to an information economy. Just four stocks -- namely Microsoft, Apple, Amazon, and Facebook -- have accounted for 19% of the S&P 500's total return this year. All of them are "tech."
And this is not new to 2019. Similar contributions were made by tech last year and in 2018. I have been used to hearing about the 4 horsemen of tech. But apparently there's even now something called the "FAANG stocks," which refers to Facebook, Amazon, Apple, Netflix, and Google (Alphabet).
This shift is, of course, one of the reasons why every city is trying to establish a strong tech ecosystem. I saw that first-hand in Lisbon this past week. And frankly I think the city has many of the same characteristics that made Berlin a great place for tech. It's affordable. It's filled with young and smart people. And it's a fun place to be.
There's a reason that Lisbon now hosts the annual Web Summit, which is generally considered to be the largest tech conference in the world. (The North American offshoot, called Collision, relocated to Toronto this year in order to be in a more global city.)
Portugal only has a population of about 10 million people. There are some 3 million people in the metropolitan area of Lisbon. But that doesn't really matter because most startups today are immediately targeting a global customer base.
I learned more about Portugal and Spain's colonial pasts on this trip and I found it fascinating. In many ways, it was the start of globalization. But that was the Age of Discovery. Those centuries are over and done with. Our century is the Information Age. The above chart is part of that story.