What is it about fine wine that enhackles the proletarian sentiments of the boorgeoisie? Sarah Miller investigates.
Her main point: all taste is acquired and if you've developed an eye for decent literature and an ear for good music, it's no more unusual to have worked on a palate for good wine. Cheap wine does indeed suck, I can aver. But that doesn't mean it can't be worth drinking. Hell, sometimes you feel like Olive Garden. Sometimes you want to watch Kevin Bacon in a lead role. Who am I to judge?
Is expensive wine euvoluntary? That's a trickier question. In last week's dipwad outrage of the moment, a typically semi-sentient politician made a hyperbolic remark along the lines of "why do we have X number of different kinds of deodorant when there are starving children in the world?" Or maybe it was "this country" since the moral sentiments of the typical politician can't see past their own constituency. I think that perhaps the same pedestrian intuition underlying this misapprehension of economics also supports anti-elitism aimed against wine lovers. What are you doing sipping fancy-pants fermented grape juice when there are children out there who go to bed hungry?
If that were the tradeoff, then of course it would be monstrous to drink good wine, or to buy a yacht, or to spend two months' salary on an engagement ring, or to really do much more than live hand-to-mouth and give away the remainder of your salary to hungry orphans. Every now and again, you do hear of someone doing that, but it's always noteworthy for its extreme rarity. It should be noteworthy for its long-term inefficacy, but I suppose I shouldn't expect too much of short news cycles.
Instead of worrying about what others spend their fairly-earned money on, perhaps it'd be more fruitful to examine what institutional barriers exist that prevent low-income earners from making a more comfortable living. Complaining about wine and deodorant doesn't help the poor the way eliminating licensing restrictions would, for example.
So go ahead and enjoy your fine wine. But if I catch you paying more than twenty bucks for a bottle of vodka, I'll know you're a poseur. Get the rotgut, send it through an activated charcoal filter a few times, and take the Pepsi challenge with top shelf neutral spirits. I guarantee you won't be able to taste the difference.
Showing posts with label envy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label envy. Show all posts
Thursday, June 4, 2015
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
The Horrible Truth of Nien Nunb
For those of you too young or insufficiently interested in the minutae of Star Wars trivia to recall, Nien Nunb was the Sullustan "co"-pilot who, together with Lando Calrissian, successfully detonated the power plant at the center of the second Death Star orbiting the forest moon of Endor. This assault marked the demise of both Emperor Palpatine and the last remaining Sith apprentice, Darth Vader.
Astute viewers will notice that while aboard the Millennium Falcon, Lando occupied the seat typically filled by Han Solo, and the froglike Nunb took Chewbacca's seat. Even more astute viewers will note that nearly every scene in the previous movies that required both adept piloting (the escape from the first Death Star or the flight from Hoth eg) and assistance elsewhere aboard the Falcon, Chewie kept his post, while Han went off to man the turrets or flirt with Leia or whatever. Han may have had legal title over the Falcon, but Chewbacca was its main pilot. This is not unlike our own terrestrial seagoing vessels, where the owner of the ship, the captain of the vessel, and the pilot are seldom the same person. If Nien Nunb was actually in the pilot's chair, it was he who deserves the lion's share of credit for the victory at Endor.
Despite this obvious-in-retrospect conclusion, Nunb is virtually unknown to casual fans. I had to wait until the action figure came out to learn his name, and it was only because of the extended universe novels that I remembered it with any regularity. How could this happen? Why do we so cavalierly forget one of the most important figures of the Rebellion?
The answer is a little complicated, so bear with me. On Nien Nunb's homeworld of Sullust, his distant ancestors civilized themselves in low-lying swamplands on one of the larger continents. This continent was a dangerous place, chock full of toothy predators and geological hazards. Proto-Sullustans competed with a number of similar Anurials for the same sorts of swamp resources. What set Nunb's ancestors apart from the other contenders for intellectual advancement was an idiosyncratic propensity to cooperate. This propensity arose almost by accident when a group of medium-status individuals found that by banding together to kill individually powerful males one at a time, they were able to avoid domination and capture a larger share of the community wealth. Of course, they were still social animals, and the Anurials clever enough to band together were also clever enough to exclude the very low-status members, obliging them to accept either charity or a BATNA of autarky (you get what you can make with your own two hands). Nota bene, in order for coalition members to avoid becoming the next assassination target, proto-Sullustans got very good at loudly championing equality for all, while surreptitiously hoarding wealth and excluding the untouchables.
Ancient proper Sullustans organized themselves by loosely-hierarchical clans. Members were more or less equal, with a clan head (usually an elder) to give direction where needed. But the habits of their Anurial ancestors was already baked into their DNA, so to speak, and they carried with them a strong skepticism of overt domination, or of bragging, or other displays of individualism. It was only with the development of stable farming that they began to deepen hierarchy and re-assert a measure of dominion.
Unfortunately for the military accolades owed to Nunb himself, re-emergent hierarchy was arrested by the arrival of hyperspace-capable vessels. Sullustans had all the mental faculties required for spacefaring, so it was simply a matter of a couple generations' training to get them serving aboard freight vessels and eventually as the chief pilot responsible for the fall of the Empire.
And so we have Nunb, heir to a culture that had never provided much in the way of reward for exceptional courage, and had indeed gone out of its way to punish overt displays of dominance. And as heir to this culture, he readily joined with Mon Mothma's fleet to overthrow the most domineering regime in the entire galaxy: Palpatine's Empire. But he also had flowing through his cold veins just enough contempt for lower-status creatures that he couldn't much care about the flaming debris that cascaded down onto the surface of Endor. Ewoks barely register as sapient, their ultimate sacrifice so that the galaxy can be rid of a hated sovereign was more than worth it. After all, it would have been a heck of a hassle to wrest control of the Death Star (and the rebel fleet had no way of knowing that Vader had killed Palpatine anyway) and move it out of Endor's gravity well. Right?
Nunb was in thrall to his biological and cultural programming. He could have no more sought recognition for his vital role in overthrowing the Empire than our own hotheaded champions of "justice" and "fairness" could have kept themselves from frothing up a lather over the unprofessional sartorial choices of a European rocket scientist who just helped land a tiny probe on a distant comet. Sullustans, much like we humans, are social creatures first and foremost. The tiny little triggers in our heads itch to be pulled, and they're tuned not for unfathomable greatness in achievement, but to slight cues of dominance. It is only by mastery of the Force can anyone hope to Jedi their way out of the swamps and savannas whence we emerged.
Astute viewers will notice that while aboard the Millennium Falcon, Lando occupied the seat typically filled by Han Solo, and the froglike Nunb took Chewbacca's seat. Even more astute viewers will note that nearly every scene in the previous movies that required both adept piloting (the escape from the first Death Star or the flight from Hoth eg) and assistance elsewhere aboard the Falcon, Chewie kept his post, while Han went off to man the turrets or flirt with Leia or whatever. Han may have had legal title over the Falcon, but Chewbacca was its main pilot. This is not unlike our own terrestrial seagoing vessels, where the owner of the ship, the captain of the vessel, and the pilot are seldom the same person. If Nien Nunb was actually in the pilot's chair, it was he who deserves the lion's share of credit for the victory at Endor.
Despite this obvious-in-retrospect conclusion, Nunb is virtually unknown to casual fans. I had to wait until the action figure came out to learn his name, and it was only because of the extended universe novels that I remembered it with any regularity. How could this happen? Why do we so cavalierly forget one of the most important figures of the Rebellion?
The answer is a little complicated, so bear with me. On Nien Nunb's homeworld of Sullust, his distant ancestors civilized themselves in low-lying swamplands on one of the larger continents. This continent was a dangerous place, chock full of toothy predators and geological hazards. Proto-Sullustans competed with a number of similar Anurials for the same sorts of swamp resources. What set Nunb's ancestors apart from the other contenders for intellectual advancement was an idiosyncratic propensity to cooperate. This propensity arose almost by accident when a group of medium-status individuals found that by banding together to kill individually powerful males one at a time, they were able to avoid domination and capture a larger share of the community wealth. Of course, they were still social animals, and the Anurials clever enough to band together were also clever enough to exclude the very low-status members, obliging them to accept either charity or a BATNA of autarky (you get what you can make with your own two hands). Nota bene, in order for coalition members to avoid becoming the next assassination target, proto-Sullustans got very good at loudly championing equality for all, while surreptitiously hoarding wealth and excluding the untouchables.
Ancient proper Sullustans organized themselves by loosely-hierarchical clans. Members were more or less equal, with a clan head (usually an elder) to give direction where needed. But the habits of their Anurial ancestors was already baked into their DNA, so to speak, and they carried with them a strong skepticism of overt domination, or of bragging, or other displays of individualism. It was only with the development of stable farming that they began to deepen hierarchy and re-assert a measure of dominion.
Unfortunately for the military accolades owed to Nunb himself, re-emergent hierarchy was arrested by the arrival of hyperspace-capable vessels. Sullustans had all the mental faculties required for spacefaring, so it was simply a matter of a couple generations' training to get them serving aboard freight vessels and eventually as the chief pilot responsible for the fall of the Empire.
And so we have Nunb, heir to a culture that had never provided much in the way of reward for exceptional courage, and had indeed gone out of its way to punish overt displays of dominance. And as heir to this culture, he readily joined with Mon Mothma's fleet to overthrow the most domineering regime in the entire galaxy: Palpatine's Empire. But he also had flowing through his cold veins just enough contempt for lower-status creatures that he couldn't much care about the flaming debris that cascaded down onto the surface of Endor. Ewoks barely register as sapient, their ultimate sacrifice so that the galaxy can be rid of a hated sovereign was more than worth it. After all, it would have been a heck of a hassle to wrest control of the Death Star (and the rebel fleet had no way of knowing that Vader had killed Palpatine anyway) and move it out of Endor's gravity well. Right?
Nunb was in thrall to his biological and cultural programming. He could have no more sought recognition for his vital role in overthrowing the Empire than our own hotheaded champions of "justice" and "fairness" could have kept themselves from frothing up a lather over the unprofessional sartorial choices of a European rocket scientist who just helped land a tiny probe on a distant comet. Sullustans, much like we humans, are social creatures first and foremost. The tiny little triggers in our heads itch to be pulled, and they're tuned not for unfathomable greatness in achievement, but to slight cues of dominance. It is only by mastery of the Force can anyone hope to Jedi their way out of the swamps and savannas whence we emerged.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Let's Nationalize Salon
I occasionally worry my contributions here at EE are excessively preening or self-congratulatory. Regular readers will recognize an element of smug satisfaction when I write of the analytic superiority of Smithian sympathy, when I go out of my way to take others' arguments at face value, to assume sincerity.
I assure you that this is not part of a tiny campaign to demonstrate my moral superiority. I find this habit useful for the singular reason that I absolutely, resolutely refuse to believe that the large bulk of humanity, and more specifically, the loud intellectual elite that rouse their rabble, are in the regular habit of uttering craven lies all the live-long day. It flies in the face of even a moment's reflection to conclude that ordinary citizens bear vituperative intent in their notions of what's best for civil society.
With this in mind, I beg of you to refrain from assuming of me too much conceit when I attempt to lend Fred Jerome the benefit of the doubt when he forwards a proposal to nationalize the media.
But here's the moral intuition, right here. Old school socialism:
Actually, let's not ignore that. I think that's actually where the moral intuition is. According to Mr. Jerome's model of private production, concentrated wealth is de facto coercive. And furthermore, it's coercive in a way that the ability to strip individuals of their possessions, deprive them of their liberty, and ultimately execute capital (pun not intended) punishment is not. In Mr. Jerome's political economy, BATNA disparity is a worse offense than the insoluble problem of production in a socialist economy.
I do vanity searches for "euvoluntary" pretty regularly, and the term shows up from time to time. Once in a while I'll come across a sentiment along the lines of "if it ain't euvoluntary, it ain't voluntary." This is fascinating on many levels, not the least of which is that communist-leaning folks read Munger (and hey, maybe me too, who knows?). If you ask me, the Jerome model is consistent with this sentiment. Because of the editorial process, journalism is not especially euvoluntary.
It takes a special kind of reasoning to move from that mundane observation to "therefore our duly elected representatives owe the constituency the duty to muzzle the paper hounds of the popular press." I too take great issue with the venom spewed by large news organizations. My solution is to share my thoughts with you here rather than silencing the analytically vapid dirty laundresses on cable news channels. I endeavor to practice euvoluntary exchange to the best of my limited ability. I seek neither dominion nor violence. By my estimate, the finest answer to the hogwash on TV and in print is to offer better content. If I'm a good enough writer, the readers will come. If I fail the market test, so long as no one is forcing your eyeballs elsewhere, it's infantile to assign the blame to organizations who are better than I at attracting attention. Shutting them down by force is institutionalized envy. I have little enough interest in encoding virtue into the function of the state. I have no interest whatsoever in wedding the coercive authority in society with one of the more base vices.
h/t to FiSH for the link
Happy birthday, Lysander Spooner! When the dead rise from their graves, yours'll be the last corpse I torch with my homemade flamethrower!
I assure you that this is not part of a tiny campaign to demonstrate my moral superiority. I find this habit useful for the singular reason that I absolutely, resolutely refuse to believe that the large bulk of humanity, and more specifically, the loud intellectual elite that rouse their rabble, are in the regular habit of uttering craven lies all the live-long day. It flies in the face of even a moment's reflection to conclude that ordinary citizens bear vituperative intent in their notions of what's best for civil society.
With this in mind, I beg of you to refrain from assuming of me too much conceit when I attempt to lend Fred Jerome the benefit of the doubt when he forwards a proposal to nationalize the media.
Imagine a world without the New York Times, Fox News, CNN, the Wall Street Journal, and countless other tools used by the 1 percent to rule and fool.Easier done than said. State media is an actual thing that actually exists. The USSR, Mao's China, and the Cuban press are but a few examples. Naturally, I assume that when Mr. Jerome invokes the "1 percent" he means the top observations of the GINI curve for wealth and not for political authority. Otherwise, statements like this strain credulity:
In a socialist society run by and for the working people it represents, the mega-monopolies like Walmart, Halliburton, Exxon-Mobil, and the corporations that run the tightly controlled "mainstream media” will be a thing of the past.Replaced instead by a vision of the "democratic media", where presumably all voices can be heard on an equal footing. That's pretty good for me. Salon.com has 8,000 subscribers on Feedly (I still miss my Google Reader), but we've got 72. I'd be thrilled to have Mr. Jerome's readers sent my way. But that's obviously not what he means. Instead:
But what will the media be like in a socialist USA? There is no blueprint, but in a society that has erased corporate control, the articles in newspapers and magazines and online will not be filler between ads for teeth whiteners and weight-loss pills. There won’t be TV commercials for Coke, cars, or million-dollar condos. There will be no private corporations to create and sponsor the news.Agents of the state will have the authority to silence "private corporations" who "create and sponsor the news." I assume that in Mr. Jerome's imagination, this censorious authority will munificently refrain from exploiting their privileged position for their own ends. Instead, we shall enjoy a flowering of multiple voices sponsored by the various "labor unions, tenants’ organizations, or citywide parent-teacher associations" of our fair nation. Evidently, these voices are now silenced, my own humble counterexample here at EE notwithstanding.
But here's the moral intuition, right here. Old school socialism:
To be sure, there will be no shortage of economic news in a socialist society. Some news will still come from local and national governments that set product-distribution quotas or help to negotiate them, sponsor trade and international exchange with other countries, and—if the world is still partly controlled by capitalist powers—organize defense against economic (as well as cultural, and possibly military) assaults. But most news reports in socialist media will come from working people themselves.It's not clear to me that this author has spent much time talking to "working people themselves," because if a factory worker is especially good at filtering, sorting, editing, and creating compelling content, she may well be in the wrong line of work. Let's not focus on that though. Let's even ignore the murderous undertones of organizing defense against military assault.
Actually, let's not ignore that. I think that's actually where the moral intuition is. According to Mr. Jerome's model of private production, concentrated wealth is de facto coercive. And furthermore, it's coercive in a way that the ability to strip individuals of their possessions, deprive them of their liberty, and ultimately execute capital (pun not intended) punishment is not. In Mr. Jerome's political economy, BATNA disparity is a worse offense than the insoluble problem of production in a socialist economy.
I do vanity searches for "euvoluntary" pretty regularly, and the term shows up from time to time. Once in a while I'll come across a sentiment along the lines of "if it ain't euvoluntary, it ain't voluntary." This is fascinating on many levels, not the least of which is that communist-leaning folks read Munger (and hey, maybe me too, who knows?). If you ask me, the Jerome model is consistent with this sentiment. Because of the editorial process, journalism is not especially euvoluntary.
It takes a special kind of reasoning to move from that mundane observation to "therefore our duly elected representatives owe the constituency the duty to muzzle the paper hounds of the popular press." I too take great issue with the venom spewed by large news organizations. My solution is to share my thoughts with you here rather than silencing the analytically vapid dirty laundresses on cable news channels. I endeavor to practice euvoluntary exchange to the best of my limited ability. I seek neither dominion nor violence. By my estimate, the finest answer to the hogwash on TV and in print is to offer better content. If I'm a good enough writer, the readers will come. If I fail the market test, so long as no one is forcing your eyeballs elsewhere, it's infantile to assign the blame to organizations who are better than I at attracting attention. Shutting them down by force is institutionalized envy. I have little enough interest in encoding virtue into the function of the state. I have no interest whatsoever in wedding the coercive authority in society with one of the more base vices.
h/t to FiSH for the link
Happy birthday, Lysander Spooner! When the dead rise from their graves, yours'll be the last corpse I torch with my homemade flamethrower!
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Grand Game: Wealth Distribution Video Edition
There's a video making the rounds. I saw it thanks to Mr. Sulu. Lots of good discussion points to be had, particularly for euvoluntaryists. Here's the clip:
Now, before your jimmies get too rustled, consider that some fraction of the top end of that "actual" distribution is there thanks to proper euvoluntary exchange, but probably quite a bit more is sitting there thanks to favorable government policies.
The question then... careful analysis is mentally taxing, so to what extent should thoughtful people see this and cry foul? Is is reasonable to grab the pitchforks over a statistical distribution? Is it relevant how wealth is generated?
The fox is already guarding the henhouse, people. Should we really sharpen his teeth and give him night-vision goggles?
Now, before your jimmies get too rustled, consider that some fraction of the top end of that "actual" distribution is there thanks to proper euvoluntary exchange, but probably quite a bit more is sitting there thanks to favorable government policies.
The question then... careful analysis is mentally taxing, so to what extent should thoughtful people see this and cry foul? Is is reasonable to grab the pitchforks over a statistical distribution? Is it relevant how wealth is generated?
The fox is already guarding the henhouse, people. Should we really sharpen his teeth and give him night-vision goggles?
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
The Green-Eyed Rationalist
"Thou shall not covet..." features prominently in the Ten Commandments because of elementary economics.
Information is scarce, which is to say two things: it is valuable and it is costly to obtain. That information is valuable is trivially obvious. The costs might be a little bit harder to grasp, but consider that to become knowledgeable about something, you need to obtain, process, and interpret signals. Each step poses its own challenges. I submit to you that it's sensible to be thrifty in each step. We generally specialize and trade when it comes to obtaining information, hence the press. Signal processing is done by the elephant most of the time, preserving the rider for truly novel, challenging situations that demand close scrutiny. Even interpretation is often left in the hands of others who have done the heavy lifting for us. Why bother formulating the foundations of moral theory from scratch each time you're presented with an ethical dilemma? Kant's already done it for you. Or Aristotle, or Aquinas, or Bentham, or Nietzsche, or whoever you like.
So why shall thou not covet thy neighbor's ox? Think about envy as a way of economizing on scarce information. Art lives next to Betty, who earned her oxen by pillaging and looting Lothar of the Hill People over on the other side of the valley. Carl moves into the empty hut to Art's left, droving an oxherd at least as grand as Betty's, so Art could perhaps be forgiven for assuming that Carl has also gained his wealth through the liberal application of violence.
I'm willing to claim that envy is a more-or-less useful heuristic for the circumstances that marked the large bulk of human history. Under conditions of low capital accumulation, wealth differences were more likely to arise not because of the gains from trade protected by secure property rights, but by the careful application of brute force. You see a rich dude, he's probably rich because he's a cheat, a bully, or a racketeer. Now spin the clock forward to the era of merchantry, and we've got a much different story. The sea captain who buys cheap and sells dear ends up with a train of oxen as large as that of the prince who wrings the fat of the land from his lean, immiserated serfs. The same heuristic that makes Art wary of Duchess Betty's wealth is entirely inappropriate when applied to Carl the Monger. When there are more Carls running about than Bettys, heuristic substitution by divine fiat is probably a good least-cost means of protecting valuable capital from re-allocation by rationally envious goatherds. Mobs restrained by the Word of God allow honest farmers and merchants to make us all wealthier through their industry and thrift.
But what, you ask, does any of this have to do with euvoluntary exchange? Well, I claim that paternalism grounded in concerns for BATNA disparity leverages envy by proxy.
Darvis is an itinerant oxhand looking for work. Betty hires him and sets to working him to the bone and paying him a pittance. Art sees this and denounces Betty, that cruel exploitrix. Sure enough, he rallies the townsfolk to dismantle her ranch and reassign her property to each according to his needs. Bereft of his daily bread, Darvis slouches to Carl's to ply his trade. The sad saga repeats, but this time two honest men are ruined instead of just one. Relying on cheap (though still rational) heuristics leads to avoidable tragedy.
"Smash the rich" sentiments can reasonably be justified when the riches accumulate through the use or threat of violence. I think it's fair to be suspicious of folks who "earn" sizable boodles in the warm embrace of the state. Conflating wealthy merchants with crony capitalists may be an easy cognitive shortcut, but it's one that unjustly threatens peaceful voluntary trade. "Rip the System" might be a more useful sentiment to the extent that it encourages institutional reform in the direction of open access orders, fiscal federalism, and an impersonal rule of law. This must, of course, run jointly with a thoroughgoing appreciation for the wonders wrought by lawful capitalism. I think Americans have a general appreciation for this, deep down. Question folks about their attitudes towards the amorphous "rich", then follow it up with questions about specific rich people. I think you'll find most of the contempt restricted to, well, the contemptuous wealthy (not named here since I'm not keen on defending libel suits). Few people I've spoken with begrudge honest business folk their holdings.
The lemma to this is that the real aversion is all on the low end. We hate seeing relative poverty because of pity for the poor, not strictly because of envy of the rich. I'm inclined to believe that this is a strangely American phenomenon, but I'll freely admit that this hypothesis requires more research.
Sascha Konietzko: underappreciated philosopher
Information is scarce, which is to say two things: it is valuable and it is costly to obtain. That information is valuable is trivially obvious. The costs might be a little bit harder to grasp, but consider that to become knowledgeable about something, you need to obtain, process, and interpret signals. Each step poses its own challenges. I submit to you that it's sensible to be thrifty in each step. We generally specialize and trade when it comes to obtaining information, hence the press. Signal processing is done by the elephant most of the time, preserving the rider for truly novel, challenging situations that demand close scrutiny. Even interpretation is often left in the hands of others who have done the heavy lifting for us. Why bother formulating the foundations of moral theory from scratch each time you're presented with an ethical dilemma? Kant's already done it for you. Or Aristotle, or Aquinas, or Bentham, or Nietzsche, or whoever you like.
So why shall thou not covet thy neighbor's ox? Think about envy as a way of economizing on scarce information. Art lives next to Betty, who earned her oxen by pillaging and looting Lothar of the Hill People over on the other side of the valley. Carl moves into the empty hut to Art's left, droving an oxherd at least as grand as Betty's, so Art could perhaps be forgiven for assuming that Carl has also gained his wealth through the liberal application of violence.
I'm willing to claim that envy is a more-or-less useful heuristic for the circumstances that marked the large bulk of human history. Under conditions of low capital accumulation, wealth differences were more likely to arise not because of the gains from trade protected by secure property rights, but by the careful application of brute force. You see a rich dude, he's probably rich because he's a cheat, a bully, or a racketeer. Now spin the clock forward to the era of merchantry, and we've got a much different story. The sea captain who buys cheap and sells dear ends up with a train of oxen as large as that of the prince who wrings the fat of the land from his lean, immiserated serfs. The same heuristic that makes Art wary of Duchess Betty's wealth is entirely inappropriate when applied to Carl the Monger. When there are more Carls running about than Bettys, heuristic substitution by divine fiat is probably a good least-cost means of protecting valuable capital from re-allocation by rationally envious goatherds. Mobs restrained by the Word of God allow honest farmers and merchants to make us all wealthier through their industry and thrift.
But what, you ask, does any of this have to do with euvoluntary exchange? Well, I claim that paternalism grounded in concerns for BATNA disparity leverages envy by proxy.
Darvis is an itinerant oxhand looking for work. Betty hires him and sets to working him to the bone and paying him a pittance. Art sees this and denounces Betty, that cruel exploitrix. Sure enough, he rallies the townsfolk to dismantle her ranch and reassign her property to each according to his needs. Bereft of his daily bread, Darvis slouches to Carl's to ply his trade. The sad saga repeats, but this time two honest men are ruined instead of just one. Relying on cheap (though still rational) heuristics leads to avoidable tragedy.
"Smash the rich" sentiments can reasonably be justified when the riches accumulate through the use or threat of violence. I think it's fair to be suspicious of folks who "earn" sizable boodles in the warm embrace of the state. Conflating wealthy merchants with crony capitalists may be an easy cognitive shortcut, but it's one that unjustly threatens peaceful voluntary trade. "Rip the System" might be a more useful sentiment to the extent that it encourages institutional reform in the direction of open access orders, fiscal federalism, and an impersonal rule of law. This must, of course, run jointly with a thoroughgoing appreciation for the wonders wrought by lawful capitalism. I think Americans have a general appreciation for this, deep down. Question folks about their attitudes towards the amorphous "rich", then follow it up with questions about specific rich people. I think you'll find most of the contempt restricted to, well, the contemptuous wealthy (not named here since I'm not keen on defending libel suits). Few people I've spoken with begrudge honest business folk their holdings.
The lemma to this is that the real aversion is all on the low end. We hate seeing relative poverty because of pity for the poor, not strictly because of envy of the rich. I'm inclined to believe that this is a strangely American phenomenon, but I'll freely admit that this hypothesis requires more research.
Sascha Konietzko: underappreciated philosopher
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Is Inequality a Problem?
The question in the title is silly, since few advocate complete equality. The question is better posed, "Is TOO MUCH inequality a problem?"
Of course, this begs the question in the other direction, since "too much" is by definition a problem. Can a society be so unequal that even a devotee of the "no initiation of force" principle would agree that state action, in the form of direct redistribution or indirect taxes and subsidies in kind would be justified?
I bring this up because there was a very well executed discussion in the NYT on essentially this question (though they don't credit the "no initiation of force" point, since the NYT even supported the initiation of force in Iraq).
My own thought: Two years ago I would have said that inequality, simply qua inequality, could never be a problem. The reason is that relative wealth is simply not an allowable argument in a utility function, and therefore the government is never justified to act. Allowing the inclusion of the individual's reaction to inequality as a justification for state action is simply to take the sin of envy and raise it to the status of an artificial virtue, "social justice."
I found Hayek's view on this persuasive. The problem is not RELATIVE wealth, but the absolute destitution of the very poorest. If, in absolute terms, the poorest members of a rich society are unable to provide for themselves and their families the basics of food, clothing, shelter, education, and health care, than state action might be considered. But to be clear: the problem is not that income is too unequal, but rather that the poorest are simply too poor. (One place I discussed this was in this paper, on pages 3 and 4).
But now... not so fast. I would admit that I may have been wrong, and in fact almost certainly was wrong. There are two conditions in which inequality is a problem per se, without resort to the absolute poverty claim.
1. The bargaining power of the least well off is small enough, compared to the bargaining power of the rest of society, to render economic exchange by the least well off not euvoluntary. Sweatshops may be a problem precisely because they really are the best opportunity for the very poor.
2. The political power of the very wealthy swamps the power of the population, and in particular disenfranchises the median voter, because the peculiar institutions of large democracies tilt power toward the "median dollar." This is the argument made by many, but perhaps most tenaciously by my good friend Tom Ferguson, in books such as this one, especially the appendix. (UPDATE: Daron A offers some interesting observations extending the interaction)
But even then, having admitted there is a problem, I expect I will differ about the solution. The solution to the first problem cannot be to cut off access to the market. Closing the sweatshop does nothing but make rich lefties feel better, and does nothing to help the abject workers.
And the solution to the second problem cannot be to confiscate wealth. The solution is to reduce the ambitions of government, and in consequence sharply circumscribe its powers. If it is true that government controls every aspect of our lives, from whom we marry to what we eat, than I agree that the very wealthy will have disproportionate influence over those decisions. But then the answer can't be to get rid of the very wealthy; instead, the answer is get rid of the government controls.
Of course, this begs the question in the other direction, since "too much" is by definition a problem. Can a society be so unequal that even a devotee of the "no initiation of force" principle would agree that state action, in the form of direct redistribution or indirect taxes and subsidies in kind would be justified?
I bring this up because there was a very well executed discussion in the NYT on essentially this question (though they don't credit the "no initiation of force" point, since the NYT even supported the initiation of force in Iraq).
My own thought: Two years ago I would have said that inequality, simply qua inequality, could never be a problem. The reason is that relative wealth is simply not an allowable argument in a utility function, and therefore the government is never justified to act. Allowing the inclusion of the individual's reaction to inequality as a justification for state action is simply to take the sin of envy and raise it to the status of an artificial virtue, "social justice."
I found Hayek's view on this persuasive. The problem is not RELATIVE wealth, but the absolute destitution of the very poorest. If, in absolute terms, the poorest members of a rich society are unable to provide for themselves and their families the basics of food, clothing, shelter, education, and health care, than state action might be considered. But to be clear: the problem is not that income is too unequal, but rather that the poorest are simply too poor. (One place I discussed this was in this paper, on pages 3 and 4).
But now... not so fast. I would admit that I may have been wrong, and in fact almost certainly was wrong. There are two conditions in which inequality is a problem per se, without resort to the absolute poverty claim.
1. The bargaining power of the least well off is small enough, compared to the bargaining power of the rest of society, to render economic exchange by the least well off not euvoluntary. Sweatshops may be a problem precisely because they really are the best opportunity for the very poor.
2. The political power of the very wealthy swamps the power of the population, and in particular disenfranchises the median voter, because the peculiar institutions of large democracies tilt power toward the "median dollar." This is the argument made by many, but perhaps most tenaciously by my good friend Tom Ferguson, in books such as this one, especially the appendix. (UPDATE: Daron A offers some interesting observations extending the interaction)
But even then, having admitted there is a problem, I expect I will differ about the solution. The solution to the first problem cannot be to cut off access to the market. Closing the sweatshop does nothing but make rich lefties feel better, and does nothing to help the abject workers.
And the solution to the second problem cannot be to confiscate wealth. The solution is to reduce the ambitions of government, and in consequence sharply circumscribe its powers. If it is true that government controls every aspect of our lives, from whom we marry to what we eat, than I agree that the very wealthy will have disproportionate influence over those decisions. But then the answer can't be to get rid of the very wealthy; instead, the answer is get rid of the government controls.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Envy
Yesterday, origins of generosity.
Today: Envy? As I have often said, it is hard to know why we raise the sin of envy to the status of a virtue, and then name it "social justice." But... maybe there are good reasons.
Nod to Max B
Today: Envy? As I have often said, it is hard to know why we raise the sin of envy to the status of a virtue, and then name it "social justice." But... maybe there are good reasons.
Nod to Max B
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