如今，共享經(jīng)濟(jì)正呈現(xiàn)出一種全新的含義

如今，共享經(jīng)濟(jì)正呈現(xiàn)出一種全新的含義

Companies that disrupted the way we traditionally have done business — Airbnb, ZipCar, and Uber, to name a few — seem to have hit the same major roadblock we're all facing: a fatally contagious virus that's forced us to rethink the way we share.

打破我們傳統(tǒng)商業(yè)模式的公司——例如Airbnb、ZipCar和Uber——似乎也遇到了我們都面臨的同樣的主要障礙:一種致命的傳染性病毒，迫使我們重新思考分享的方式。

A book shared by a neighbor and left on your doorstep may be the best book in the long run. (Photo: Albina Bugarcheva/Shutterstock)

As a result, they're falling on hard times. Even industry stalwart Airbnb is feeling the pandemic pinch. The short-term rental market is, understandably, in tatters.

結(jié)果，他們陷入了困境。就連行業(yè)中堅Airbnb也感受到了大流行帶來的壓力。短期租賃市場已經(jīng)支離破碎，這是可以理解的。

It's one thing to share public spaces. But what about sharing people's homes and their cars?

共享公共空間是一回事。但是共享別人的房子和汽車呢?

This isn't about being a germaphobe. These days, it's a public health issue. And it's seriously impacting the bottom line of companies that, ironically, turned a profit from a communal lifestyle.

這并不是說要成為一個潔癖者。如今，這是一個公共健康問題。這嚴(yán)重影響了公司的底線，具有諷刺意味的是，它從公共生活方式中獲得了利潤。

The thing is, there's a much older sharing economy that predates even Uber — one that our parents and their parents before them have long relied on.

問題是，早在Uber出現(xiàn)之前，就有一個更古老的共享經(jīng)濟(jì)——我們的父母和他們之前的父母長期以來一直依賴于這個經(jīng)濟(jì)。

The original sharing economy

最初的共享經(jīng)濟(jì)

The proverbial borrowed cup of sugar has been replaced by flour. (Photo: threerocksimages/Shutterstock)

"There's a lot of flour, sugar and yeast passing from neighbor to neighbor these days, even if we're just leaving it on one another's doorsteps," Mike Allen writes in Axios. "We may not rush back into shared spaces — but we've experienced a profound demonstration of interdependence."

“如今，有很多面粉、糖和酵母從一個鄰居家傳到另一個鄰居家，即使我們只是把它們放在別人家的門口，”邁克·艾倫在Axios網(wǎng)站上寫道。“我們可能不會匆忙回到共享空間——但我們已經(jīng)經(jīng)歷了相互依賴的深刻證明。”

And you don't actually have to personally know a neighbor to partake in it. Just about every neighborhood has a Facebook group where locals can arrange to share everything from jigsaw puzzles to kids' toys.

實際上，你并不需要親自認(rèn)識一個鄰居來參與其中。幾乎每個社區(qū)都有一個Facebook群組，當(dāng)?shù)厝丝梢园才欧窒韽钠磮D到兒童玩具的一切東西。

There are apps too, like Nextdoor and Olio. Even those tiny boxes, known as Little Free Libraries, are getting into the spirit of things. Instead of dispensing books freely to the neighborhood, they're getting stuffed full of staples like pasta, peanut butter and toilet paper.

也有一些應(yīng)用程序，比如Nextdoor和Olio。即使是那些被稱為“小免費(fèi)圖書館”的小盒子，也正在融入到事物的精神之中。他們不再向鄰居們免費(fèi)分發(fā)書籍，而是塞滿了像意大利面、花生醬和衛(wèi)生紙這樣的主食。

Of course, in pandemic times, every kind of sharing — whether it's an Uber ride or a neighbor's jar of peanut butter — comes with the same caveat: Be wary of those surfaces and disinfect accordingly.

當(dāng)然，在大流行時期，每一種分享——無論是優(yōu)步打車還是鄰居的花生醬——都有同樣的警告:小心觸碰表面，并相應(yīng)消毒。

But a book borrowed from a neighbor, rather than a public library, is probably a safer bet, having been passed around by fewer potentially problematic hands.

但是從鄰居那里借的書，而不是從公共圖書館借的書，可能是更安全的選擇，因為很少有潛在的問題出現(xiàn)。

Besides, there's a certain warm fuzziness about things shared between neighbors.

此外，鄰里之間分享的東西有一種溫暖的朦朧感。

This system is predicated on kindness over capitalism. And these days, that may be the most valuable currency of all.

這個體系建立在對資本主義仁慈的基礎(chǔ)之上。如今，這可能是所有貨幣中最有價值的。