Word: stiffs
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...gang that graduated in the 1950s and early 1960s, who celebrated football, proms and exclusive fraternities, and somewhat different from the more conventional, career-directed students of today. Yet it was not difficult for corporations to recruit the '60s kids. As products of the postwar baby boom, they faced stiff competition for places in law and medical schools. And as they became breadwinners, they gained more respect for the financial and psychic payoffs offered in the corporate world...
Economists today generally agree on one point: many of their old ideas do not work well in controlling that endemic modern problem, stagflation. A stiff dose of Government spending, prescribed by Britain's late Dr. John Maynard Keynes to cure depression, often leads to an inflation high. The monetarist medicine formulated by Dr. Milton Friedman ?take a slow, steady increase of money supply?often produces the economic blahs. The radical surgery of wage-price controls is widely recognized as a palliative at best or, at worst, counterproductive quackery...
...employment proposals by Thurow and Feldstein have much the same problem as TIP; they would be hard to administer. There also would be serious difficulties in defining who was qualified to receive the job subsidy and in guarding against fraud. The plans have run into stiff opposition from union leaders, who fear that federal subsidy for young workers would tempt companies to lay off older, more experienced hands in favor of hiring the cheaper young...
...competition and in production for profit. In terms of social and economic policy, this philosophy translates itself into social irresponsibility and regulated capitalist industry. Tyndall professes a doctrine of social obligation only for the physically incapacitated. For all other victims of structural unemployment or poverty, Tyndall allows only "the stiff breeze of compulsion to work, and hardship if they...
...sweet, she was, with coal dust in her long blonde hair and a crumpled bus ticket in her fist. "Scranton," she sighed by way of explanation, in a voice that trailed off like the Doppler effect of a passing 18-wheeler on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I poured her a stiff one, and she poured me her story: "I have this terrific manuscript, but please don't ask how I got it, and I just have to get into the newspapers before they do." "They?" "The syndicate." "Which one?" "The New York Times Syndicate." I lunged for the phone...