The economy is never just a set of cold numbers. It lives in the everyday choices people make, often without noticing, writes Lifang Chen. Photo / Getty Images
Rotorua’s Lifang Chen shares her experience as a Chinese New Zealander living here.
The Christmas and New Year break is the busiest time of the year for many local businesses.
Shop windows are refreshed, discount signs appear overnight, and there is a quiet hope that this short season will help balance the books before the year comes to an end.
On Boxing Day, I headed out with a shopping list to pick up a few essentials. Inside the store, it was busy. Cheerful Christmas songs played on repeat through the speakers, filling the space with familiar melodies and a sense of celebration.
People pushed trolleys along the aisles, laughter mixing with the music. It was the kind of atmosphere that gently encouraged you to slow down.
And then, a suitcase caught my eye.
In that moment, my thoughts drifted back to an experience not long before.
On that trip, I travelled with my daughter to visit family and friends and spent a few days staying with a close friend. One day, she noticed my luggage. Of the two suitcases I had brought with me, one had a broken wheel. I had not packed much for the journey, and I told myself it could manage for a while longer.
That suitcase was more than 20 years old. It had travelled with me through different cities and countries, carrying not just clothes but parts of my life. Because of that, I was reluctant to let it go. It always felt as though it could still be used, just a little longer.
My friend is a straightforward person. She took one look and said, without hesitation, “it is time to throw it away. If you do not buy a new suitcase, how can you help boost GDP”?
Her comment was half a joke, half serious. I laughed and agreed on the spot. Yes, she was probably right.
Yet when I returned to New Zealand, I did not rush out to buy a new suitcase. Life slipped back into its usual rhythm, but her words stayed with me.
How do people actually influence the economy? Not just at a national level, but within a city, a community or a household.
GDP is a large and abstract concept. It appears in headlines and reports, measured in percentages and projections, often detached from the lives it claims to describe.
It can feel distant, like a tall building seen from the ground level. But what determines its height is rarely what sits at the top. It is built on the decisions people make, through each hesitation, each purchase, and each moment of choosing to buy or not to buy.
A cup of coffee. A meal eaten out. And a trip taken when the time feels right.
Small, everyday choices like these, repeated millions of times, quietly shape GDP.
Over the years, I have lived and travelled through different cities and countries.
I have watched Shanghai’s economy gather momentum, with property prices rising to levels that once felt unimaginable.
I have seen Singapore’s public housing blocks, known as HDB flats, climb higher and higher, as more than six million people live within a land area roughly the size of Lake Taupō.
I also remember Rotorua in earlier years, when house prices felt reasonable, the population was smaller, and familiar faces appeared everywhere.
Today, more people are moving into the city, its boundaries stretching outward and its sense of familiarity quietly reshaped.
Seen across these places, economic change is rarely sudden. It emerges from countless small choices, accumulating over time.
In recent years, I have often heard friends who run local businesses say that conditions are no longer what they used to be.
Alongside broader economic pressures, online shopping platforms have made survival increasingly difficult for small retailers.
I have also noticed how many businesses now emphasise phrases such as “locally owned”, “locally made” and “support local”.
As residents, we genuinely want to support local businesses. There is a sense of connection and responsibility in doing so.
But when the price difference becomes too large, many people pause. They calculate. Emotional loyalty eventually meets rational decision-making. In the end, what remains is not a declaration of values, but a choice shaped by reality.
Back in the store that day, the Christmas songs continued to play and the crowds kept moving. I did not buy a new suitcase. The old one was eventually thrown away, but I did not replace it.
There were already enough suitcases at home, and no immediate need for another.
Since then, every time I hesitate before making a purchase, I find myself thinking about that remark about GDP.
The economy is never just a set of cold numbers. It lives in the everyday choices people make, often without noticing.