There ought to be a government-mandated minimum wage.

I would like to thank Mongeese for this interesting challenge and assert that, while labour costs, together with fixed and other variable costs, have an impact on a company's profit margin, labour costs cannot be treated in the same way as the others, and need to be subject to government legislation. To illustrate why, I shall examine and extend my opponent's analogy as follows: Bob's is clearly not running a viable business unless it makes enough profit to pay its staff the going rate of pay, but that's not what my opponent is saying, he's just saying that Bob is too mean to pay for a worker to re-stock his store and he'd rather do it himself to save a few dollars. Well, that's fine, but Bob's business will never prosper unless he invests in human resources. Indeed, the service Bob provides his customers is likely to be inferior due to his store being short-staffed: not only will the shelves not be replenished during busy periods but shoppers may well have to wait in line for extended periods of time in order to be served. This would provide Joe with the opportunity to escape the poverty trap of low wages and unemployment by opening a rival store opposite Bob's. Joe could ensure his shop is fully staffed with shelves properly stocked with attractive goods, and have check out desks adequately manned so customers don't have to wait in long lines for the privilege of paying for their groceries. Bob's former customers would, naturally, flock to Joe's store and Bob's business would soon go bust, leaving Bob bankrupt, legally-barred from becoming a company director, and out of work. Now, Bob's wife would not be impressed by this change in the family's fortunes and the following conversation may well ensue: "Bob, I've had enough. Our home is being repossessed because you haven't paid the mortgage; the children have been thrown out of school because you haven't paid the fees and, to top it all, my credit card was declined in the hair salon this morning and I had to spend the rest of the day sweeping up to pay for my cut and blow dry, and Charlene from next door spotted me and tweeted all my friends and they all came down to point and laugh at me through the window, and all this because you were too mean to pay Joe the minimum wage, and now he's eating your lunch. I'm sorry, Bob, but I'm leaving you and I'm taking the kids with me." "But where will you go, Mrs Bob?" "You know all those evenings you spent stacking cans instead of spending time at home with me? Well, Joe was round here keeping me company. I'm a woman, Bob, with a woman's needs and Joe was able to fulfil those needs – better than you were ever able to, ‘Mr Floppy'. Now Joe's store is making good money and he's bought a big house and he has asked us to move in with him, so I am. Good bye, Bob." And so, the newly-estranged Bob would be left homeless and desperate for a job so he might decide to go to Joe's house, knock on the door, and when he answers, prostrate himself at his feet. "If you've come to get your wife and kids back, Bob…" Joe might say, but Bob would probably interrupt him and reply: "No, no. All I'm asking for is a job." "Well," Joe might reply "as it happens I do have a vacancy for a shelf-stacker, but I only value your time at $5 an hour so I'll hire a younger, fitter, more customer-focused candidate and pay them the minimum wage of $7 an hour instead. Now get out of my sight and never darken this doorway with your presence again." So Bob would be obliged to accept any job going, which might be as a fluffer in the local gay bar where he would earn the minimum wage. This could be just enough to pay for a room in the neighbourhood crack house, where prostitutes might use his bed to turn tricks while he's out at work, and where he would probably have to check the sheets for used condoms and AIDS-infected syringes before he tried to go to sleep amongst the din of demented crack-heads trashing the room next door. Then, some months later, a new government might be elected and announce that, in order to compete with countries such as China and India, the minimum wage in America is to be abolished. On hearing this, Bob's boss at the gay bar could call him into the office and inform him that his wages would be cut to $5. "$5 an hour!" Bob might exclaim. "No, $5 a day." His boss might reply. "But I can't survive on that sort of money," Bob might say. "You ungrateful little wretch, fluffers in Calcutta make half that money," his boss might rage, "If you don't like it, you know what you can do." So, no longer even being able to afford to rent a room in a crack house, Bob would find himself sleeping rough on the streets. Then, one winter's night, he might be laying in a gutter, with cold and hunger having taken their toll on his weakened body, and Mother Nature might envelope him in a grim embrace and clasp him to her icy bosom, and as Bob twitches his last, he might well say to himself: "Oh, I wish I had never opposed the minimum wage." Thank you.