Category: Commentary

The Only Place is Out

I saw a man on a corner street
Yelling out a name

He told me, “Vote for this guy”
I said, “They’re all the same”

He yelled, “This one’s different
He’ll give us what we need”

“That’s what I’m afraid of”
I said, and turned to leave

The man yelled, “Wait! Stop!
I still don’t understand”

I said, “What I need ain’t the business
Of any other man”

He hung his head and groaned
Still clearly in the dark

And said, “You’re with the other party
They’ve surely missed the mark!”

I said, “Sir, I don’t care too much for parties,
Freedom’s what I’m about

Whether it’s in the bedroom or the boardroom
The only place for government is out”

Ten Reasons to Blog Regularly

1. Self Discipline – Like all disciplines, it makes you a better person; more in control of your schedule and habits.  It is empowering to do something on a regular basis.

2. Self Translation – You hold a set of beliefs and ideas about the world.  You may not even know exactly what they are, but they exist.  Blogging helps you translate those ideas into a form that you and others can use.

3. Self Education – You have no idea how much you know, or how capable you are of understanding and explaining things.  Once you start blogging, you’ll be surprised to discover what a genius you are.

4. Observation – Every day you are taking in loads of sensory information.  You see news clips, billboards, emails, people; you hear music, talk, etc.  When you start to blog you learn to find meaning in the things your senses take in, and find story lines.  You learn to observe.

5. Humor – The things noted above are often hilarious, you just don’t always realize it at the time.  Regular blogging helps you recreate experiences you’ve had, which often reveals their hilariousness.

6. Writing – Blogging ain’t great literature, but it can be.  Any kind of writing regularly will improve your skills.  Blogging will especially help you learn to be more concise and interesting.

7. Self Knowledge – You may not know your area(s) of interest and expertise – regular blogging will help you discover what you are interested in and good at as you begin to see patterns and reoccurring themes in your posts.

8. Experimentation – Blogging allows you to be a pundit on any issue.  You can comment on things you normally don’t have time or knowledge for.  You are allowed to speculate and think out loud on a blog in ways that more formal media do not allow.

9. Crash-testing – Blogging regularly will inevitably produce some pretty good writing.  Blogging every day will help you get all kinds of stuff out, and then look back and see if any of it is worthy of refinement and publication elsewhere.  It’s a great testing ground for ideas, themes, articles, outlines, etc.

10. Archiving – Regular blogging for just a year can result in hundreds of articles on hundreds of topics.  You will develop an archive of your thoughts and a record of how they’ve evolved over time.  When someone asks for your opinion on an issue you won’t have to start from scratch.  You can send them a link to that time you expressed it so well.

Why Government Fails – Public Choice for Everyone

There are innumerable arguments about the legitimacy and morality of government and its proper scope, all of which are worth exploring.  Public Choice Theory examines an entirely different question than what government ought to do.  It asks what government actually does.

Public Choice is the study of the operations of government using the analytical tools of economics.  In short, the same assumptions about human interests and actions are applied to the political market as the market for economic goods.

The real power in this theory is its ability to reveal how poorly government works in practice.  It does not address lofty notions of the ideal state, or the right and wrong of state action, but rather examines the actual operations of states to see if they are effective at achieving their stated goals.

Public Choice theory by that name is relatively new among schools of economic thought, but the application of economic insights to political institutions is not new.

This is a basic overview of the core insights of Public Choice Theory.

Why government?

The need for government is typically justified by the claim that there are certain “public goods” which cannot be supplied by the voluntary forces of the market, but are nonetheless beneficial to all members of society.

The standard analysis describes goods like roads, for example, and spends a great deal of time analyzing the incentives in the market to explain why roads will not be sufficiently provided.  It is supposed that everyone would benefit from a road and it would be “non-excludable”.  That is, once constructed, it would be too costly to prevent members of society from using the road whether they paid for it or not.  Because of this non-excludability, rationally self-interested individuals would be unwilling to contribute to a voluntary fund for the maintenance of the road.  Each individual knows that their contribution is small relative to the entire road fund, and furthermore that without their contribution, they will still enjoy use of the road.  With these incentives facing everyone, no one will contribute and the road will decay.  It is in no one’s individual interest to pay for road maintenance, but everyone would be better off if each person contributed.

You may substitute any number of “public goods” for roads, but the standard analysis is the same.  It looks closely at the incentives in the market, deems them unfit to provide the good in question, and concludes that the good must be provided by the state.

Let’s grant, for the sake of argument, that the analysis of the market is correct.  (There is ample evidence to the contrary of course: Nearly any “public good” you can imagine has at some point been, or is even today, provided by the private sector, even though theorists sometimes fail to imagine how.)  If we accept the inability of the market to sufficiently provide the good, there’s still something missing in the standard story.

All the time is spent analyzing what would happen in a market of rationally self-interested individuals and what the incentive structure would produce.  When deemed insufficient, no time is spent analyzing what happens when government attempts to provide the good.  (This is what Art Carden has colorfully dubbed the political economy of the Underpants Gnomes.) What happens if we use the same assumptions and analytical rigor when examining government provision of public goods as we do for the market?

Political self-interest

In order for government to solve public goods problems it would require selfless politicians.  The political actors who use tax dollars to maintain the road would have to be counted on to discharge this duty rather than, say, spend the money on something else or give it to a subpar contractor who happens to be their friend.  But if we are consistent in our analysis, we must treat politicians as rationally self-interested people too.  They have every incentive to act to their own benefit at the expense of the taxpayer.

How can the self-interest of the political class be kept in check?  The textbook answer is democracy.

Democracy as a restraint

Does democracy ensure that the political class will pursue the interest of the public, rather than their own?  The answer is a resounding ‘no’.  The reason is because voters are also self-interested.

It is well known that, statistically, an individual vote in a state or national election is meaningless.  The odds of one vote changing the outcome of a national election are worse than the odds of winning the lottery.  The odds of getting in a car accident on the way to the polls are greater than the odds of an individual vote making a difference.  In other words, the possibility of an individual vote resulting in measurable benefits to that individual is almost nonexistent.

In order for democracy to keep the self-interest of politicians in check, voters need to have an understanding of what they’re voting on and what policies are good for the whole of society.  This would take a tremendous amount of time and effort.  A single bill may be several hundred pages of technical legalese, and most elected officials vote on hundreds of bills in each term.  For a citizen to be informed enough to know what policies are good for society vs. good only for the politicians is incredibly costly.  Yet the individual vote of a citizen has almost no chance of changing the outcome or conferring any benefit.  The rational response is to be ignorant of policies, because the cost of being informed is so much greater than the chance of benefiting from being informed.  A dedicated, informed voter has one vote that is cancelled out by just one ignorant voter.

The result is what economists call “rational ignorance”.  Voters are ignorant of policies and positions because to be otherwise is a burden with no reward.  But there are some people for whom knowledge of policies is beneficial; namely, the small groups that are directly affected by those policies.

A bill to give a $100 million subsidy to Acme co. is worth a great deal to that company.  They would not be foolish to spend $99 million lobbying for its passage, as they would still come out $1 million ahead.  Voters, on the other hand, have no incentive to lobby against the bill because spread out across taxpayers it might cost each just a few dollars, while active opposition – even just a letter to a Congressperson – might take hours of time that could be spent doing something worth more than a few dollars.  This is why democracy results in concentrated benefits and dispersed or diffused costs.  The rationale of politics is to provide benefits to concentrated interests and spread the costs as far and wide as possible – including into the future by way of borrowing or inflating to pay for it.

The obvious result is a myriad of special interests seeking benefits at the expense of the broader public.  In the end, everyone is worse off, but every group has the incentive to continue to seek privileges, if for no other reason than to offset the costs they are bearing for the privileges lavished on every other group.  This is why Frederic Bastiat described the state as, “That great fiction by which everyone tries to live at the expense of everyone else.”  It has been described elsewhere as a game where people stand in a circle and the state takes a penny from each person, then awards five pennies to one of them at the end of the round (the other five being kept by the state).  The game is repeated until each person has been the “winner” of five pennies at least once.  They all begrudge the loss of a single penny each round, but all eagerly expect to be the winner in another round, not realizing that at the end of the game every single person in the circle has less than they started with.

The incentives in a democratic system lead to special interests lobbying for and receiving privileges at the expense of society.  Far from keeping the self-interest of politicians in check, instead democracy promotes and rewards it, so long as those politicians also provide benefits to every imaginable minority and hand the majority the bill.

But let’s ignore all that…

Let’s assume away rational ignorance on the part of voters.  Let’s pretend that voters will expend every effort to become knowledgeable and constrain the self-interest of politicians.  Let’s say the “will of the voters” can keep officials in check.

But what is “the will of the voters”?  It is not an easy question to answer.  Let’s walk through the selection of a preferred policy through the democratic process.  The policy in question is what to do with troops in Iraq.

Option A: Keep troop levels the same

Option B: Increase troop levels

Option C: Remove all troops

Now let’s look at the preferences of three different voters.

Voter 1: A>B>C – Prefer to keep the same level of troops, but if any change is going to occur would rather increase troops and “get the job done” than to pull out.

Voter 2: B>C>A – Prefer to increase troops to “get the job done”, but if that’s not going to happen better to pull out entirely than keep the same level of troops.

Voter 3: C>A>B – Prefer to remove all troops, but short of that, better to leave the same number of troops there than to add more.

Whether or not you agree with the preferences of these voters, it is clear that each of them has a rational sequence of preferences among the given policy options.  You probably have met people who hold each of these views.  To determine the “will of the voters”, let’s put these options to a vote and see what policy the elected officials should follow…

In a vote between policy A and B, policy A would win.  Two of the voters prefer A to B.  If we put policy B and C to a vote, policy B would win.  Finally, if we put policy A and C to a vote, policy C would win.

So what is the will of the voters?  According to the votes, they prefer A>B, B>C, and C>A.  In practical terms, it means the “will of the voters” is to have the same level of troops instead of more, more troops instead of none, and no troops instead of the same number.  That would be like a person saying that, between Snickers, Baby Ruth and Heath bars, they prefer Snickers above all, followed by Baby Ruth, followed by Heath, which they prefer to Snickers.  This is a non-transitive set of preferences, and is one of the definitions of a mentally impaired person.  The will of the voters is a logical impossibility. This is called vote cycling, or Arrow’s Impossibility Theorem.

You can see how, based on the structure of the voting process, entirely different preferences can emerge.  This means that even if the voters were well informed, democracy would fail to provide a clear “will of the voters” for politicians to be accountable to.  Take this simple example of three clear policies and substitute a number of politicians each with positions on dozens of different policies and it is utterly impossible to know what the “will of the voters” is based on the results of elections.

Okay, let’s also ignore all that…

Let’s go a step further.  Let’s pretend that voters are not only informed, but that by some magic the “will of the voters” is clear as day and easily ascertainable through the democratic process.  If we grant these two monumental assumptions surely democracy will serve to protect the interest of the public at large from those of politicians and special interests…right?  Unfortunately for democracy, its problems are even greater than rational ignorance and the impossibility of a clear “will of the voters.”  The “will of the voters” may actually be for policies that are harmful to those voters themselves and the public at large.  This is what Brian Caplan has called “Rational irrationality”.

Voting is not the same as purchasing something in the market.  To vote is to express a preference, while to purchase something is to demonstrate a preference.  Voting, like filling out an anonymous survey, is “free”.  You can voice whatever preference you like without being held accountable for the result.  Imagine if a grocery store sent a survey to nearby residents and asked them to vote for what items they would like on the shelves.  It’s not hard to see what a disaster this would be for patrons of the store.  People may vote for bizarre items just to be funny.  People may vote for items they think they ought to buy, rather than items they actually do buy; or items they think their neighbors should like, rather than what they do like.

When people are asked whether they like it when companies outsource production to countries where labor is cheaper, most will say no.  Yet many of these same people purchase lower priced items produced overseas instead of more expensive domestically produced alternatives.  Their stated preference is for American made goods, but they demonstrate by their actions that they see foreign goods as more beneficial to their own well-being.  It is “free” to say you want to protect American manufacturing jobs, and it may feel better to voice that opinion, but if faced with the costs that result from the outcome of a protective tariff, people may choose otherwise.

Voting is a free way to indulge irrational biases.  Voters do not vote for policies that they themselves favor, but for policies that make them feel good to vote for.  They vote for the candidate who promises to stop immigration because it feels right on an emotional level, yet they hire the migrant worker to landscape their business because it benefits them more than the alternative.

Voting separates the voter from the results of his vote, and creates an incentive to use votes carelessly and in ways contrary to his actual interest.  Even if we grant the most generous assumptions imaginable – voters who are fully informed no matter the cost to them and the fact that they have no chance of benefiting from being informed, and a democratic process that can clearly express a single “will of the voters” across a complex range of issues – democracy still provides incentives for policies that harm the public by their own definition.

Public goods revisited

We began the exploration of how government works by assuming it was the solution to public goods problems.  Government was supposed to the solve those instances where it is in no individual’s interest to bear the cost of overcoming a problem, but where everyone would be better off if all would share the cost.  What Public Choice reveals is that, rather than solving public goods problems, democracy is the greatest public good of all.  It is in no individual’s interest to bear the cost of being informed and voting their true preferences, but in order for the system to work everyone would have to sacrifice their self-interest to the greater good.

Regardless of the moral standing of the state, the practical outcomes of government activity are inferior to what the market produces.  Even in cases of so-called “market failure”, it may be better for the government to take no action than to intervene and make things worse with the even greater “government failure” embedded in the incentives of the state.  In other words, whether or not government is an evil, it may be an unnecessary one.

Hope?

To reduce the harmful effects of the perverse incentives in government, it must be reduced to its smallest possible form.  The scope of activities taken on by the state must be narrowed as far as can be accomplished.  Many practitioners of Public Choice theory advocate constitutional checks, supermajorities and other adjustments to government procedures in the hope that these will change the incentives and create a more accountable government.  The flaw in this approach is that the parties responsible for making such changes are themselves part of the government apparatus and face all the same incentives they are hoping to overcome.

If followed to its logical conclusion, pure Public Choice theory would lead us to believe that the state would be all-encompassing even now.  The incentives are aligned, for example, so that there should be mandates on every facet of our lives in every industry and the sphere of freedom should be nonexistent.  Yet this is not the state of affairs in which we find ourselves.  Why, given the incentives in the system, has the state been restrained at all, little though the restraint may seem to us?

In the final analysis, it is the beliefs of the public that create the ultimate check on the state.  If the public has a firm belief that alcohol should be legal, the interests of bootleggers and Baptists will not be sufficient to bring prohibition back.  We cannot reasonably expect incentives to be overcome or people to act against their self-interest, but we can and do see incentives change as people’s view of what is in their self-interest changes.  Most people would not find it worth their while to attempt to stop the passage of a subsidy to Midwestern beet farmers; but a great number of people consider it worth their while to attempt to stop the passage of a new prohibition bill.

Only when it is widely believed that farm subsidies are as absurd as alcohol prohibition will the incentives change enough to produce a more restrained state.

Further reading

Public Choice, A Primer – Eamonn Butler

Beyond Politics – Randy T. Simmons

Government Failure – Gordon Tullock, Arthur Seldon, and Gordon L. Brady

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*I am indebted to Professor Benjamin Powell for the basic structure of the arguments in this article, which he presents in a lecture for the Foundation for Economic Education.

*I am indebted to Matthew Mitchell for the example of vote cycling.

*This was originally posted at LibertarianChristians.com.  I thought it prudent to repost here because there are so few basic intros to Public Choice and because many would-be readers who are not interested in Christianity or Libertarianism may overlook it at the original site.

Rational Choice Robots Are Real (and they are us)

One of my pet peeves is when characters in movies don’t behave like real people.  I don’t mean when people teleport, or fly, or grab onto the landing gear of a moving plane – I love sci-fi, action and fantasy.  These things don’t make sense in our world, but can be perfectly consistent with the rules of the world in the film.  What gets me is when the storytellers try to convince us that the characters are normal humans, just like you an me, regardless of whether gravity is the same, yet they behave completely irrationally.

I don’t mean irrationally as in crazy, or emotional, or too short-sighted; real people do that.  I mean in ways that do not benefit them in any way, even according to what we are supposed to believe is their own subjective valuation.  Movie villains are notorious for this.  How often are they portrayed as hell-bent on a particular goal, only to stall just before realizing the goal to deliver some one-liner.  If the character is supposed to crave attention and the recognition of being witty above all else, this might make sense, but that’s not often what we’re supposed to believe about them.  How many movies portray business tycoons as so greedy for more money that they do things that will guarantee them less money?

I have a hunch that this unrealistic portrayal of humans in extraordinary circumstances stems from an unrealistic understanding of humans in ordinary circumstances.  There seems to be a failure among writers and the general public to appreciate the power of rational choice theory in explaining human behavior.  Too many people do not see everyday actions as the result of rational self-interest.  If you don’t think people pick a brand of black beans based on rational choice, then why would they pick a method of murdering their nemesis any more rationally?

Critics of rational choice theory correctly point out that real people are not robots that calculate their projected “utility” with every decision.  This critique is correct insofar is the calculation is not often conscious nor does it involve anything called a “util”.  But calculations of self-interest do occur all the time, and in dizzying complexity.  To take a well-documented example, when seat-belt laws are enacted, injury from accidents tends to increase slightly.

Economist use a rational choice model to explain that humans comfortable with a certain level of risk will maintain that level and if you make them wear seat-belts  they may compensate by driving more dangerously.  I doubt anyone consciously gets into their car after a seat-belt law is passed and says, “I’m comfortable with a 0.7% chance of death every time I drive, and this damn seat-belt lowered it to 0.5%.  I’m going to speed up!”  Still, we make subtle, marginal calculations like this all the time without realizing it.  If you crave a candy bar you may be willing to get in your car and drive at night through the rain to get one – an act that dramatically increases your risk of injury.  But if it’s snow mixed with rain, you may deem it not worth the risk.  A very minor change in risk alters your decision.

It is impossible for an economist to get inside anyone else’s head and understand their subjective preferences or what creates them.  It’s hard enough to understand what generates our own.  Absent some telepathic ability, we are left with few tools to analyze the decisions people make and the norms and institutions that result.  We could assume that people behave in completely irrational, unpredictable ways and have no expectation of generating a desired result when they take any action.  But then, why would someone act if they did not believe, whether rightly or wrongly, that acting would yield some benefit (as defined by them, not some objective standard)?  An assumption of rationally self-interested individuals is the only tool available to us, and it turns out it’s amazingly powerful.

Since value (in the economic sense anyway) is subjective, calling someone a rational chooser does not mean they have no emotions or impulses.  These things are part of what form their judgements of what is valuable.  Neither does it mean people will always choose the most effective means of getting what they desire.  No one is perfectly informed and we often have false ideas about cause and effect.  What we value also changes over time and with circumstance.  All it means is that, given the knowledge and preferences we have we will choose the actions that we perceive as yielding the greatest benefit (subjectively defined) at the time of choosing.  So simple it’s often dismissed as an unhelpful truism.  But how many times do we forget this and assume all kinds of far-fetched things about people’s choices instead?

When we apply this model, even some of the most bizarre behaviors can start to make at least some sense, given the constraints (real or perceived) and context.  (Check out some of the work of Peter Leeson).  This can help us see the root causes of behaviors and social phenomena and, if we so choose, attempt to change the cost/benefit equation and alter the situation.  Without this model we are left making wild and arbitrary guesses and claims about what motivates actions and we pursue remedies that do nothing to change the underlying incentives.  “They hate us because we’re free”, for example, might make one feel better, but it doesn’t offer any valuable insight into why someone rational enough to plan for months would conduct a seemingly irrational act like a suicide bombing.

I love a tall tale at the movies, but it would be a lot better if writers kept their characters actions consistent with the motives and values they are supposed to have.  Understanding real human behavior is the first step in creating pretend worlds that really capture the imagination of real world viewers.

When to not Play the Game

Yesterday, I talked about seeing life as full of overlapping and complex games.  Doing what is socially acceptable in certain contexts is part of the game.  Playing it is fine, so long as it’s not confused with real life.  Getting bitter at is is not usually productive.  But when is opting out a good idea?  The short answer is, only you can decide for yourself.

Russ Roberts and Bryan Caplan have been discussing being “weird”, the pressure to conform, and the costs and benefits of non-conformity.  At Cafe Hayek, Roberts is more optimistic about the rewards gained by breaking free from status quo games.  At EconLog, Caplan seems to think it rarely pays off.  Both offer valuable considerations.  It is very costly to opt out of social games and prevailing narratives.  But the biggest rewards often come to those who don’t just play games and win, but who “change the game”, to use some business buzz-wordage.

Peter Thiel discusses the common traits of weirdos and great individuals in this fascinating lecture.  Thiel seems to think innovators share traits from both tails of the distribution curve of “normal” people.  He channels the ideas of philosopher René Girard, particularly his idea of Scapegoats.  Girard claims that societies tend to focus all of their violence or conflict (born of envy) on a few individuals, and destroy them as a form of sacrifice while alternately worshiping them.  This deification and sacrifice is seen in religious beliefs and rituals throughout history, as well as the treatment of celebrities by major media.

It seems realizing that a dominate game is immoral or inefficient and refusing to play has the potential to make you a criminal outcast or an innovative hero, possibly both.  There may be ways of opting out of social games in quiet fashion without incurring too much cost, but is there any way to change games, create new games, and achieve greatness while avoiding the wrath of the mob?  I’d like to think so, but I’m not sure.

Life as a Game

The great storyteller C.S. Lewis says in one of his stories (though I can’t remember which) that some of the most sinister things are those that look like or pretend to be something they are not.  I’d modify this slightly and say that the worst things are those that actually believe themselves to be something they are not.  Life is full of stories and games.  It is not the playing or telling that causes trouble, but when we begin to believe the game is the reality.

Take sports.  Imagine if a professional football player actually believed that the game was life.  If winning was not just the artificial end within the construct of the game, but the actual end in life, you might see things like the scene in the ridiculous movie Any Given Sunday, where a player shoots a would be tackler.  Players would hurt or kill opponents regularly and some would proudly become martyrs just to win.  Critics of sports will say that this already occurs, but if you think hard about it, even the most over-committed behave as if they are in a game and that life is something else.  The most criticized decisions, like bounties for injuring players, or keeping an injured player in, are egregious precisely because it is so universally acknowledged that sports is a game and it is improper to treat it like life.

It’s harder to see the other games and stories, and games and stories nested within games and stories, that we regularly engage in.  Language itself is a kind of game.  When you transform an idea into a mental image or words in your mind, you produce a symbol that represents the idea, but not perfectly.  When you put those symbols into audible form, they are still less representative of the core idea.  The hearer unbundles the words and facial expressions, translates them into ideas in their own mind, and finally translates them into a response or action.  At the end of this game, the action of the hearer may manifest something quite different from the idea with which you began.  You played the game of verbal communication.  The better you are at the game, the more the response you got was what you wanted.

But this paints too simple a picture of the games we play.  Language takes place in a social context.  It is nested within several overlapping games.  If you are talking at a work party, everyone involved is operating within a rich narrative about appropriate behavior, what words and actions mean, who relates to who in what ways, who plays what roles within the group, and so on.  We are regularly navigating multiple complex narratives and games.

This is not a bad thing.  Games and stories are useful and inevitable.  We haven’t yet found a way to telepathically share abstract ideas, and I’m not even sure we’d enjoy it if we could.  Games and stories help us make sense of the world, form relationships, predict causality, and move closer to our goals.  Games are useful and they’re also a lot of fun.  The danger is when you forget it’s a game and think it’s life itself.

I hate formal attire.  It’s uncomfortable and I think it looks like a silly costume.  Still, in certain contexts, a game has evolved wherein everyone wears certain costumes that come bundled with certain signals and ideas.  I play the game, even if I sometimes wish everyone would find a more comfortable way to create the context of formality.  I don’t mistake the game for real life – and thank goodness.  If being a savvy dresser was the goal; if it was itself success, seriousness, intelligence, I’d be in trouble.  I’m not very good at dressing well.  Luckily, it’s a game and a way to communicate these concepts, albeit imperfectly, and it is tied up with a lot of other ways to communicate.  I can do it enough to get by, but if dressing well meant living well, I’d be having a rough go of life.  By recognizing unspoken dress codes as a game, I can actually have some fun with them and not feel so choked by my necktie.

Upon seeing games for what they are, it’s tempting to refuse to play and reject them altogether in favor of “the real thing”.  This is a mistake in the opposite direction.  There may be a time when I can always refuse to wear a suit and it won’t harm me, but for now, it would hinder my other goals in life.  It would alienate me from people whose company I enjoy.  I try not to be bitter at the games people play, but enter in on my own terms and navigate them toward my own ends.  Even a hermit monk plays games.  He has entered a narrative that gives explanatory power to his unusual behavior, and thereby protects him from some of the hurt that comes from not being understood.  The social story of the hermit exists as a kind of fortress within which he can opt-out of other games with less harm to his relationships with others.  (Of course hermitage is a game that, once chosen, can be hard to deviate from without significant cost, but the concept of getting stuck in our own games is for another day.)

It is incredibly liberating to realize the game-like nature of life.  We are constantly telling and acting in stories and playing games.  Once we awaken to this realization, we can step back and remind ourselves that the object of the particular game ought not be confused with the object of our life.  We can seek to find the truth that resonates with us to our core, but on the journey we will inevitably have to play games with their own objectives.  Don’t despise or run away from the games, but don’t forget that they’re just games!  Play them, enjoy them, master them, fail at them, laugh at them, love them.  It will make your journey towards fulfillment a better one.

(For a great read in this vein, I recommend Finite and Infinite Games by James P. Carse)

Waging Generational Warfare Against Yourself

I just read a wonderful book called How They Succeeded.  I was struck by how many of the highly accomplished individuals interviewed mentioned staying out of debt as a key to success.  It’s obvious that being debt free has practical benefits like the ability to accumulate capital, the maintenance of good credit and a good reputation.  But these seemed rather simple and obvious and not enough to warrant the repeated advice.  None of them mentioned personal hygiene or other obvious practical disciplines, so why debt?

I think there are reasons beyond the practical and material for minimizing debt.  There is a psychological loss of freedom that can take place with the knowledge of debt hanging over ones head.  This can subtly subvert free-thinking and creativity and narrow the lens through which one sees the world.

This is probably not the case for everyone in every circumstance.  If you’re involved in lots of business endeavors where you need to operate on credit you may be very comfortable with and adept at handling debt.  I know people who do not seem to have any trouble with a constantly fluctuating personal balance sheet.  It’s not that way for me.  I definitely feel the steady pressure of debt like white noise in the background of all I do.

On the one hand, it seems odd that debt would be problematic.  Borrowing money from the probable excess of the future to subsidize consumption of the tighter present can make financial sense and result in an overall increase in enjoyment of life.  Indeed, if we never changed or grew and our preferences were the same through time, debt would make perfect sense as a way to smooth the ups and downs of material pleasures.  But that’s just it, we change.

This excellent blog post about doing what you love mentions being stuck with the career choices made by your teenage self.  If you are determined to be a lawyer or a doctor at a young age and persist down that path at some point you may realize you no longer enjoy it, but your options have narrowed with your skill set.  You are a captive to the choices of your earlier self.  It’s no different with consumption decisions than educational or career decisions.  Going in to debt is a way for your present self to borrow from your future self.  Think about the level of presumption.  Are you really confident your future self will be the type of person who would think it a good idea?  Might they have other uses to put the debt payments to?

When you go into debt, you are binding another person – your future self – to subsidize the desires of your present self.  It may be a good idea in some cases, but it warrants very careful consideration.  It’s not merely a question of whether your future self will have the resources to subsidize your present preferences; it’s also a question of whether you’ll be happy about doing it.  I don’t want to be bitter at my former self for the financial obligations I have.  I’d rather the self of the past, present and future work together towards the fulfillment of our individual and shared life goals.

Death and Life

The throes of death do bear contempt,
From the breast of ev’ry man,
Nearly doth he taste,
Else he understand.

When seen but from fair distance
The blackness drowns all light,
Or rather blackness nay it was,
When seen with eyes aright.

Yet in his breast man needs a cower,
From eyes so far and cold,
Lest digest he the second fruit,
These mysteries unfold.

Still very this hour
Doth terry not ever,
Whence all tales be told;

Cold becomes bright forever.

Fantasy Football and Economics

An article from last month’s edition of The Freeman in which I discuss some economic lessons from fantasy football and at the same time grind an ax with a former fantasy football commissioner. Maybe it’s wrong to use economic principles and a great outlet like The Freeman as a way to vent frustration, but it worked and I am now over it…mostly.

The article is here.

Mentors Don’t Have the Answers

The word mentoring sounds really nice. It gives everyone a good feeling. It’s like “charity”, “generosity”, “helping”, or “teaching”; they all evoke positive emotions and make you feel like it’s something you should do. I think all of these words are overused, over-appreciated and under-scrutinized. There’s a valuable way to engage in all of these things, but the common forms they take are pretty flimsy.

Take mentoring. Those seeking to mentor often see potential mentees as projects or people upon whom they must bestow wisdom and guidance. Those seeking to be mentored are often looking for answers to tough questions in life like what education or career path to pursue and what steps get them closer to their goals. Neither of these approaches yield much fruit. Why not? Because no one has better answers for the questions you face than you. No one knows more about your own life and the direction it should take than you.

I’ve had older guys that I really respected (and some that I didn’t) attempt to take me under their wing and help guide my life. Sometimes I’d see something interesting in a person and seek them out to learn from them or ask them about it. So far so good. But at some point it would evolve into them feeling like they needed to provide not just conversation about whatever I was seeking, but guidance for my life as a whole. I balked at this. At the time I always felt a little guilty, like I shouldn’t be so arrogant to ignore or turn away from their attempted mentoring. I didn’t have a father figure in the traditional sense, and a lot of these guys recognized that and were trying to help fill that void. All good intentions. Looking back, I am thankful for that anti-mentee instinct I had. I never wanted or needed guidance on life in general and no one could have given it anyway. I wanted to learn from them and discuss with them specific areas in their thinking and action that I admired or found intriguing.

On the flip side, I’ve been guilty of the same. I’ve spotted talented young people and tried to help guide their lives. It doesn’t work.

I recall a revelation I had that freed me from the guilt I felt for ignoring mentors. I realized that I knew more than they did. Not about everything, of course, but about my own life. I realized that they couldn’t answer questions for me, but they could live their own life in a way that captured my attention and led me to seek specific bits of wisdom. I had to be the seeker to gain value. If they were seeking me to offer advice, chances are it wasn’t all that valuable. There are exceptions, but as a general rule I found the most helpful wisdom was that which I sought myself and not that freely bestowed by well-intentioned mentors.

This realization did not cause me to respect my elders less, but more. I released them from the burden I had imposed on them to provide solutions and answers they couldn’t and allowed them to just be who they where. It was then that I began to realize the things I did respect in them and the things I could learn.

I have endeavored to be a mentor only when sought, and even then not to attempt to offer answers for questions never asked or big-picture life questions I couldn’t provide the answers to. If someone seeks me out to ask my thoughts on a piece of writing, a career move, or an educational choice, I gladly share them. I’ve tried to resist the temptation to go on to tell them much more. If I have anything valuable to offer, it is more likely to come from their observation of me than from my words. If they want more, they can seek more.

Mentoring is great, but you should always remember that no mentor has the answers to your questions. They have answers to their own questions, and those can provide helpful insight. Seek such insight from those you respect, integrate it into your worldview, but remember that at the end of the day, you are your best mentor. After all, it’s you who lives with the choices you make, not others. Incentives are powerful.

Beyond Good & Evil

Since our move to South Carolina I’ve had a renewed interest in American history and, in particular, the history of the South and the institution of slavery. I’m a Yankee invader, so my notions of the South were pretty simplistic. I saw monuments and read snippets that were incongruent with the narrative I grew up with regarding the Civil War, slavery, and the South in general. It became clear how uncomfortably complex the whole mess was.

A friend recommended Roll, Jordan, Roll by Eugene Genovese. What an excellent book! The author filters some things through a lens of Marxian class theory, which is not really my thing, but the book is jam-packed with counter-intuitive insight and uses tons primary sources in a very enlightening way, not just a bombardment of long quotations or endless footnotes which historians sometimes do. The book is a great reminder of how much more complex the world is than we try to make it in retrospect. American slavery was not a simple story of good people and evil people. It was not a simple case of economic exploitation. It was an elaborate and highly nuanced institution with unlikely defenders and enemies. It was an evil institution, but the people within it were not necessarily evil or good.

I’ve written elsewhere about the fact that institutions can be good or evil even if the people within those institutions are not. I think it’s important to remember this. It doesn’t let us off the hook with sweeping declarations of good and evil. It forces us to look at the world as it is, and understand that people respond to incentives, and that good people can support bad institutions because of false beliefs. It doesn’t mean they aren’t accountable for their beliefs, but they mightn’t be knowingly engaging in evil.

Genovese’s book revealed that some slave owners abhorred the institution. Why didn’t they simply free their slaves? Sometimes state law prohibited or made very difficult the freeing of slaves. Some owners believed that, once freed, the slaves would risk re-enslavement by others, a much crueler life in the free but still racist North, or great hardship in a world for which they were not equipped. Whether this was true, there was some reason for slave owners to have such fears. Some freed slaves did suffer these fates. One doesn’t have to hate slavery any less or agree with the logic of these conflicted slave owners to allow the possibility that they needn’t have been pure evil. One former slave owner wrote how wrong he had been to assume that the slaves needed him and that he needed the slaves. He described how poorly most plantations were doing financially, and how the end of slavery actually improved them economically. He talked about how well the former slaves got on away from the plantation. Both of these outcomes surprised him. His worldview was so entrenched that he failed to see how the institution was harming not only the slaves but his own economic well-being.

The more difficult fact is how many slaves claimed to not want freedom, and how many chose not to take it when given the chance. One could make the material case that some slaves might have had better lives on a plantation than the other options available at the time, and that is certainly worth considering, but it strikes me that there’s something deeper at play here. There is a belief in one’s own helplessness and a fear of the unknown common to all people who have long been oppressed. When the Soviet Union fell there were stories of people who did not know what to do and longed for the security of the previous tyranny. Abused spouses sometimes exhibit similar behavior. Fear of the unknown dangers of freedom does not make the captives bad people in any of these cases. It reveals the complex nature of such institutions and reminds us that long-run oppression of such magnitude requires far more than physical force: it requires some level of belief on the part of oppressors, oppressed, and third parties that the institution is either moral, necessary, or at least inevitable.

We do ourselves a disservice if we boil everything down to good vs. evil and explain every tyranny as the result of raw physical power. People are complicated creatures who seek the most gain at the least expense and who accept or contrive all manner of beliefs to justify their choices. Or maybe the beliefs come first and determine the choices. Either way, in the long run ideas shape the institutions we live under. History and our own times are better understood when we treat people like rational actors whose choices are shaped by their beliefs rather than evil egomaniacs or saintly altruists.

There is a lot to learn from the experience of American slavery. It was a unique institution, but not so unique that it doesn’t have modern lessons and parallels. Many people failed to see beyond slavery. What evils do we fail to see beyond or imagine the world without? Robert Higgs provides some provocative food for thought here.

Resisting Anger

I’m not a fan of the state.  It’s arbitrary and highly inefficient.  Still, it’s here for the time being and I try to make my peace with it even while I try to change it.  For the most part I succeed in being happy despite the state harassment we all encounter.  Trips to the DMV, pat-downs by TSA agents and interactions with traffic cops can get me irritated, but I’m generally optimistic and calm.  So why did the relatively small increase in payroll tax get me so steamed?

To be honest I’m not entirely sure. For some reason I was really struggling to not feel anger and helplessness after recalculating our family budget post tax hike.  It was not the additional amount of money being taken that evoked such deep frustration, but the total inescapability of it.   It reminded me of the feeling I had when I had my bike stolen as a kid.  I came out of the store and it was just gone.  I felt violated and insecure.  But now it wasn’t a random thief who strikes once and leaves you alone; it was the state, always there and ready to demand more when the mood strikes.

If your cable bill goes up, you have options.  You can call and vent your frustration.  You can tell them the increase was not in your contract, or in the very least not clear to you.  This often results in a renegotiation.  My wife has a knack for getting utility providers to reduce their rates or offer temporary discounts if ever they make an error.  As a last resort you can always cancel the service entirely and go with a competitor or simply go without.  The state leaves no such option.

Being completely captive to this supposed service provider is disempowering.  I was recently reading a book about depression and optimism in children and one of the things that stuck out to me was how powerful early experiences of helplessness can be.  When kids are not able to experience cause and effect; when they can’t take action to alter the outcome of their world, they begin to despair.  The despair often manifests as depression, bullying and withdraw.  Punishment and reward with no connection to the child’s actions plant seeds that can take a lifetime to uproot.

The realization of just how vast and impersonal the state is can have a similar effect.  One day you must pay the state X, the next day the rate is Y.  There is nothing you’ve done or chosen to make this happen.  There is nothing you can do.

My wife asked me what the least oppressive tax environment in the world was.  At first I tried to recall some of the lists and charts I’ve seen, but then I remembered that it wouldn’t matter.  We were both born in this country.  That means even if we moved to another country, the IRS would demand income taxes from us for the rest of our lives.  The only option is to officially expatriate, in which case the state calculates your lifetime tax liability and asks you to pay it in one lump sum.  Some “social contract” this turns out to be!

I’ve been to countries with a high level of government “corruption” – an abbreviated way of saying a state that does what all states do, but without the factory-like repetition and paperwork.  It’s not uncommon in such places to have a state agent approach you and claim you are in violation of some or another rule.  You pay them $20 or so and they’re on their way.  The rules are used as a threat to get your money.  You pay, you can ignore the rules.  Here in America it works a little differently.  Instead of one agent showing up at your door, there are fifteen hundred bagillion nestled in cubicles wrapped in drab Soviet prison style architecture.  They send you a lot of papers demanding that you get in your car and drive to them.  You fill out six forms and wait in line for three hours.  Then they tell you one of the forms is out of date and send you away because the new form is only available tomorrow.  On your third visit you complete the forms properly so you can move on to the next step, paying whatever amount they determine you must pay.  You pay them.  But unlike countries with corrupt governments, your payment here does not buy you freedom from the silly rules.  You pay in order that you may obey them.

Of course there is no doubt this kind of system is more predictable than the corrupt states.  Then again, prison is predictable too.  Predictability is something, but it’s not everything.

Back to my tax bill.  I was angry.  I knew it was unhealthy and counter-productive.  I indulged in it for a little while and then decided it was time to be free, state or no state.  I went and re-read this inspiring interview with my good friend T.K. Coleman.  It got me back on track.  T.K., The Shawshank Redemption and the late Harry Browne’s book How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World are excellent go-to’s when I start to let the oppressors win.  If I’m free, “what can man do to me”?

What is the State? Then What?

A few good friends and I teamed up with the Mackinac Center and put together a colloquium for undergraduates.  It gets its name from Thomas Clarkson, a young man who played a major role in ending the British slave trade.  More on Clarkson here.

The reading list is intended to have an arc to it.  We examine what the state is in theory, what the state is in practice, whether the state works well compared to non-state alternatives, whether states can be improved or constrained, whether statelessness is an option, and finally how to get from the current to a better (or no) state.  There are too many excellent books and essays for each of these questions, but I’m pretty excited about the sampling we put together.

I majored in political science as an undergraduate, and I can tell you we were never asked to consider fundamental questions like these.  Nearly all of my courses and readings assumed an idealized state or talked about what a noble or just state should be like.  Public Choice theory was never mentioned, nor did we engage in serious examination of competing views of the origin and nature of states (just Plato and Hobbes) and how they actually operate.  After a few courses touching on such theories, the rest was mostly squabbling over quantitative methods for gauging public opinion and whether single member districts were more “efficient” than proportional representation, whatever that means.  It was always assumed that democracy was wonderful in and of itself and achieving and maintaining it the goal of all political action.  I don’t think you’d find such religious devotion to an ideal in divinity school.

Maybe I’m trying to relive my undergraduate days vicariously through the participants, but I hope it will be valuable for them as well.  Here’s the reading list we compiled.

Too Quick to Close

I am an obsessive finisher.  Loose ends and unfinished projects drive me nuts.  Things in progress do not excite me, they stress me out.  I’m always looking to cross things off, get them out of my mind and move on to the next thing.  I think this is a major asset, but it has come to be a liability as well.  The more complex and long-term what I do becomes, the more I’m fighting against my own habits and instincts.

When I complete a phase of a project and pass it on to someone I’m collaborating with, within days I’m impatient and contemplating just finishing it myself even if it’s imperfect.  I want to close the case.  This results in a lot of complex, messy projects either being dealt with in too much haste, or potential projects never launched, because it is not clear how they would be completed.

I’m trying to learn to love the process and be comfortable waiting.  I’ll probably never be one of those people who has 10 books going, 25 internet tabs open at once and 50 emails they’ve read and not responded to.  I’m trying to get more comfortable with the idea though.  Most of the time, people with many things live at once are in that position because they are not very good at deciding how much time each project really warrants and when things aren’t worth any time at all.  I’m good at that and I wouldn’t trade it.  Realizing how much information is best completely ignored and how many emails should be deleted is powerful.  But in my haste to purge low value tasks and complete valuable tasks, I often miss out on the richness that can come out of a slow-growing idea or a longer collaborative project.

I want to wrap this post up nicely, but maybe I’ll just leave it here…