Economics of the Undead: Zombies, Vampires and the Dismal Science

Abstract

Basing their assertions on evidence provided by vampires and zombies from popular culture as disparate as Stephanie Meyer's Twilight saga (2005-08) and George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead (1968), the economists and literary theorists featured in Economics of the Undead explore the real-world implications of the behaviours of the undead, thus providing the reader with ways in which to benefit from their dalliances with the reanimated. The collection also has a decidedly contemporary bias (notwithstanding the final essay, 'Killing Time: Dracula and Social Discoordination' by Hollis Robbins, which is a fantastic reading of Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) as a struggle between natural time, governed by the sun and moon, and institutionalised Greenwich Mean Time). The reader is left in no doubt of the significance of horror literature in terms of wider social commentary. [...]we are brought full circle, as the volume gives us a more complex sense of why vampire and zombie narratives resonate so deeply with the living.

Glen Whitman and James Dow (eds), Economics of the Undead: Zombies, Vampires and the Dismal Science (Plymouth: Rowman & Littlefield, 2014)

If there were to be an overarching theme to Economics of the Undead: Zombies, Vampires and the Dismal Science, it would probably be this: that the devil (or undead monster) you know is better than the devil you don't. Perhaps, the collection of essays suggests, it is time that we stop fearing the vampire and zombie for being unknown quantities, and embrace them on the one level where we can be equals: that of the market floor. For, as editors Glen Whitman and James Dow write in their introduction, '[i]f both parties get something valuable from [an] exchange - sustenance for the vampires, illicit thrills for the humans - then in theory, the monetary payments could go either way' (p. ix). In other words, if we meet the undead on a more even playing field, perhaps we won't have to keep running.

Basing their assertions on evidence provided by vampires and zombies from popular culture as disparate as Stephanie Meyer's Twilight saga (2005-08) and George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead (1968), the economists and literary theorists featured in Economics of the Undead explore the real-world implications of the behaviours of the undead, thus providing the reader with ways in which to benefit from their dalliances with the reanimated. Examples include improving vampire-hunting skills and farming zombies for profit. In the same vein as Max Brooks's seminal instruction manual, The Zombie Survival Guide (2003), the undead menace is discussed here in a completely deadpan manner throughout. 'When I was a kid', writes Dow, 'vampires didn't sparkle. Mostly they lived in earth-filled coffins and skulked around dank cellars, drinking human blood when they could and rat blood when they couldn't' (p. 77). Despite such disparaging remarks, essays are included on all topics relating to life with the re-animated: no issue is too big or too small.

On the more personal side there is 'Human Girls and Vampire Boys', in which Whitman outlines the optimum strategy to woo and win a paranormal beau by extrapolating from human-vampire relationships such as Bella and Edward of Twilight fame. Somewhat more practically, Michael E. O'Hara's 'Zombies as an Invasive Species: A Resource Economics Perspective' suggests ways in which zombies could be employed for the economic advantages of the still-living, including 'maintaining zombie hunting as a sustainable recreational sport' (p. 168). Matters of property law in The Walking Dead (2010- present) are raised in Brian Hollar's legally inclined essay 'Post-Apocalyptic Law: What Would the Reasonable Man Do in a World Gone Mad?' Indeed, the chapters all prove to be both as informative and entertaining as their titles are imaginative, and open up for the reader innovative new ways of considering the undead. 'Is there anyone', Eleanor Brown and Robert Prag speculate, 'who, possessed of zombification insurance, would analogously seek a zombie encounter?' (p. 94). 'How did the vampires get so rich', Dow asks, 'and more importantly, what lessons can human investors learn from them?' (p. 77). These are heady questions indeed, and ones that have remained unanswered for too long. The answers are frequently interesting (stage-four cancer patients, for example, might be tempted to seek a zombie encounter if insured, it is suggested) while not always necessarily practical (should human investors wish to follow the vampire example, a good starting point, we are told, would be immortality).

One potential criticism that could be levelled at the collection is that it relies too heavily on certain case studies to support its arguments. In particular, the TV series The Walking Dead and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997-2003) are discussed ad nauseum. Certainly, these are staples of horror culture and thus deserve wide consideration. However, the current ubiquity of zombie and vampire narratives across all categories of popular media cannot be denied. As such, there seems to be little reason not to include essays focusing on a larger array of popular-culture products, even if simply to provide the reader with recommendations for further reading and viewing. The collection also has a decidedly contemporary bias (notwithstanding the final essay, 'Killing Time: Dracula and Social Discoordination' by Hollis Robbins, which is a fantastic reading of Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897) as a struggle between natural time, governed by the sun and moon, and institutionalised Greenwich Mean Time). This is understandable but unfortunately leads to an omission of the influences of Mary Shelley and H. P. Lovecraft in the creation of the zombie narrative, to name but two.

Perhaps the best aspect of Economics of the Undead is that it links what is so often considered an escapist genre to the real world. As outlined above, many of the theories that are applied to the undead figures also have practical economic, social, and political applications. This is particularly highlighted in chapters like Daniel Farhat's 'Between Gods and Monsters: Reason, Instinct and the Artificial Vampire', which demonstrates how algorithms can be used to predict future attacks from vampires (or indeed other intruders such as burglars), and 'Eating Brains and Breaking Windows' by Steven Horwitz and Sarah Skwire, which successfully deconstructs the argument that war (zombie or otherwise) can ever be economically advantageous. The reader is left in no doubt of the significance of horror literature in terms of wider social commentary.

Thus we are brought full circle, as the volume gives us a more complex sense of why vampire and zombie narratives resonate so deeply with the living. The undead clearly have much in common with us, whether that be the debate over the legal status of the zombie (should s/he be classified as wo/man or chattel?) or the vampire assessing the pros and cons of privatising her prey. All in all, this collection is a fascinating link between two subjects that are usually considered so disparate, and it is encouraging to think that there is so much scope for research such as this. Several mentions of ghosts and werewolves throughout suggest that there is room for further volumes on horror economics, while the collection also hints at the possibility of exploration into the economics of other genres like post-apocalyptic, dystopian, and fantasy fiction, film, and television.

Whitman, Dow, et al have certainly made a convincing argument for the relevance of undead workings in the field of economics. Recognising that a vampire can be persuaded to trade with the living rather than stealing their blood; having a sense of security under the terms of comprehensive zombification insurance; appreciating the fact that this dazzling creature in front of you might just be your new Tinder date - the volume encourages us to ponder these scenarios and more. Economics of the Undead: Zombies, Vampires and the Dismal Science permits the reader to rest easy in the knowledge that their next graveyard encounter with the supernatural will be decidedly less one-sided.

Sarah Cullen