Category: Philosophy
Time Preference, Parenthood and Policy Preferences
Using a small sample of couples before and after they have children, Alex Gazmararian finds that support for climate change policy increases after people have children. People also become more future-orientated when primed to think of children.
The short time horizons of citizens is a prominent explanation for why governments fail to tackle significant long-term public policy problems. Actual evidence of the influence of time horizons is mixed, complicated by the difficulty of determining how individuals’ attitudes would differ if they were more concerned about the future. I approach this challenge by leveraging a personal experience that leads people to place more value on the future: parenthood. Using a matched difference-in-differences design with panel data, I compare new parents with otherwise similar individuals and find that parenthood increases support for addressing climate change by 4.3 percentage points. Falsification tests and two survey experiments suggest that longer time horizons explain part of this shift in support. Not only are scholars right to emphasize the role of individual time horizons, but changing valuations of the future offer a new way to understand how policy preferences evolve.
It’s a little tricky to say that the driving force is time preference per se, maybe it’s just caring about (some) future people. Suppose a white man marries an African American woman. He subsequently may become more interested in civil rights, just as having children may make people more interested in the(ir) future. Or suppose that medical technology extends life expectancy, leading people to save more. Is this due to lower time preference or increased-self love?
We do see more parenthood driving future-oriented behavior on many margins. I am reminded, for example, of More Pregnancy, Less Crime which showed huge drops in criminal activity as people learn that they will be mothers and fathers. Criminals are very present-oriented so this effect is also consistent with parenthood driving lower time preference, although other stories are also possible. It’s difficult to distinguish these explanations and as far as policy and behavior is concerned perhaps the distinction between caring about the future and caring about future people doesn’t really matter.
An overly simple model of positive and negative contagion
When people feel bad and act badly, if only in rhetoric, they make others around them worse as well. That is a simple account of negative contagion of mood.
There is positive contagion too, but it is harder to pull off. If nine people tell you nice things, and one person serves up a somewhat credible insult, it is the insult that sticks with you.
Most social times are a relatively stable mix of positive and negative feelings, but sometimes the dynamics of negative contagion take over, and negativism leads to yet more negativism. Arguably this happened in Europe before WWI, and arguably it is happening in many countries today, including the United States. Very bad events, such as financial crises, also can trigger cycles of negative contagion.
This negative contagion is self-validating. If all the negative feelings, expressed collectively, in fact make outcomes worse, it will seem those negative feelings are justified. In this equilibrium the negative feelings about “opposing others” will be true, but still it would be better to avoid that equilibrium altogether.
A country can get out of a negative cycle either by winning a major war, or when a political entrepreneur comes along with enough oomph and reforms to shift the equilibrium, as Ronald Reagan did in America. Still, negative cycles are hard to break once you get into them. That said, over time things do start to become worse, so options for the positivity entrepreneurs do arise, at least if they can overcome coordination problems and get enough people to feel better.
Many thinkers and writers contribute to this equilibrium of negative feelings, most of all by writing about each other. Even if their substantive points are correct, their social marginal product usually is negative, though you can learn from them because they are competing to offer the most incisive critique.
If you can avoid being overwhelmed by the peer pressure of this negative dynamic, the private and social returns are high. You can just keep on going and build things. Yet few are able to resist the logic of Durkheim, no matter how ostensibly contrarian they may be. In fact the contrarians are often at greatest risk of being caught up in this, because they are so skilled in rejecting and also criticizing the claims of the opposing forces.
Happy Fourth of July!
What should I ask Nate Silver?
Yes, I will be doing another Conversation with Nate, based in part on his new and forthcoming book On the Edge: The Art of Risking Everything (I have just started it, but so far it is very good, dealing with issues of poker and also risk-taking more generally).
Here is my previous Conversation with Nate Silver. And please note I am not looking to ask him about the election. So what should I ask?
Migration policy, and should you favor your own country?
There is a longstanding debate — for centuries in fact — as to whether you should consider only your national (or regional) interest, or whether you should think in cosmopolitan terms when evaluating policies with cross-national ramifications.
Some commentators, for instance, suggest that American immigration policy should be set to serve the interests of current American citizens only. Whether or not one agrees, I can understand where that argument is coming from.
But what if an American is evaluating a French decision to take in or exclude some potential Algerian migrants? You might think the French should take a French point of view, and that the Algerians should take an Algerian point of view. But is the American allowed to be cosmopolitan in his judgment? Even if he or she is otherwise a self-regarding nationalist on questions concerning America?
It seems to me Americans should in fact take the cosmopolitan perspective.
Alternatively, you might argue that there are degrees of relation. American culture, politics, and gdp are much closer to their French equivalents than to anything in Algeria. So perhaps the American can side with France after all.
But then I wonder about two things.
First, this scheme might count Algerians for less, but it doesn’t seem it counts them for zero. Maybe America and Algeria have “better rap music” is common, or some degree of religiosity in common, or other points of similarity.
Second, once you start playing this sliding scale game, why look only at the dimension of nation? You also could classify people by their taste in music, how smart they are, and many other dimensions. I first and foremost might decide to identify with people on the grounds of their openness and their desire to travel. Or how about kindness and generosity as a standard?
As a result, the major moral lines will not cut across nations in any simple way, even if in the final analysis the French people count for more than do the Algerians.
While this is not exactly simple cosmopolitanism in the Benthamite sense, it is just as far from strict nationalism. Once you let partialism in the door, it seems like a tough slog to argue nationality is the only relevant moral fact for partial sentiments.
It is interesting to look at how people choose their friends. Most of us have many friends of the same nation, but that is largely for reasons for convenience. Unless perhaps I were living abroad, it would seem strange to be friends with someone because they were an American. But it is not strange to be friends with them because they are smart, have good taste in music, like to travel, and so on. So when it comes to our actual choices, nationality is just one fact of many, and it is (beyond the dimension of practicality) not an especially important fact for how we choose our partial commitments for our own lives.
So why should it be such a dominant factor for how we make moral decisions when it concerns other countries?
Economic valuation of becoming a superhero
Have you ever wished that you were a superhero? If so, how much would you be willing to pay to become one? In this study, we measured the economic value of becoming a superhero or obtaining a superpower using a discrete choice experiment. We focused on four superpowers: mind-control, flight, teleportation, and supernatural physical strength and measured values for each power. Our results indicate that of the four powers, our participants valued teleportation the most.
That is from a newly published paper by Julian J. Hwang and Dongso Lee. Via John Whitehead.
“What We Got Wrong About Depression and its Treatment”
I am not endorsing these hypotheses, but they are interesting to ponder:
-
Depression is neither disease nor disorder rather an adaptation that evolved to serve a purpose
-
Depression is so much more prevalent than currently recognized that it is “species typical”
-
Antidepressants drive neurotransmitter levels so high that homeostatic regulation kicks in
-
Antidepressants may suppress symptoms in a manner that increases risk for subsequent relapse
-
Cognitive therapy works by making rumination more efficient and “unsticking” self-blame
-
Adding antidepressants may interfere with any enduring effect that cognitive therapy may have
Those are from a new paper by Steven D. Hollon.
Claims about Brits (and Americans), by Gillian Tett
But what generally goes unmentioned is a more important distinction: that single-table conversations rarely happen in Britain. I first realised this when I started attending friends’ dinners in London a few years ago, when I was visiting from New York: when I tried to start a single conversation, I was told to stop because it was “too serious”.
There are multiple reasons for this, here is one;
In Britain, however, hustle is not so readily admired and ambition is sometimes derided as being pushy or showing off. Thus if you are brilliantly clever, you are admired for concealing the fact or cracking jokes about it at your own expense. Few Brits stand up in public and shout that they want to be public intellectuals; or not without a self-deprecating laugh.
The entire FT column is interesting, do note that Tett’s background is in anthropology.
Does visiting South Africa make you more right-wing or more left-wing?
Perhaps “both” is the correct answer?
The right-wing tendencies are easiest to explain. South Africa is obviously much wealthier than the rest of sub-Saharan Africa, and of course Westerners play a larger role in its history and also in its present. You can put different glosses on that, but a variety of those paths lead to right-wing conclusions. The left-wing lessons are more novel to ponder, here are a few:
1. Following the removal of apartheid, a black middle class and upper class arose fairly quickly. That testifies to the importance of environment, opportunity, and circumstance. Of course most of the blacks in South Africa still lack adequate opportunity, most of all because of poor education and also sometimes because of poor location within the country, a legacy from segregated apartheid times. Overall, visiting the country causes one to upgrade the importance of opportunity, and to recognize that bad circumstances for talented people can continue for a very long time.
2. Post-apartheid economic performance has been disappointing, and economic inequalities have risen not declined. That suggests more capitalism can exacerbate economic inequality, even as political inequalities are eased.
3. Apartheid was enforced with a remarkably small number of police, per capita much less than most Western countries at the time. That might suggest a kind of Marxian and Foucauldian view that oppressive systems take on a force of their own, through norms and expectations, and are harder to dismantle than an analysis of simple coercion might indicate. The disappointments of post-apartheid South Africa hardly refute that suggestion, as those earlier norms and expectations are by no means entirely gone.
4. In the new, non-apartheid South Africa, sometimes class appears to be far more important than race per se. A certain number of blacks have been slotted into the upper classes, through their business successes, but the all-important role of class continues very much as before. Tthat point appears more Marxian than contemporary leftist, but Marx still is on the left.
5. You can see how much of South African history has been shaped by the roles of gold and diamonds in their economy. That again points in Marxian directions, more than today’s left. In South Africa, the means of production really mattered.
6. What is the ideal of color-blindedness supposed to mean there, after so many centuries of color mattering so much and in so many formal ways? They even still call one group “Coloureds.” Would it be so wrong to suspect SA color-blindedness advocates of somehow missing the point, and asking for something that is both illusory and unobtainable?
I am not sure how much I agree with all of these, only that they are ways I can imagine visiting South Africa and coming away more rather than less left-wing.
What else?
*Cosmic Connections*
The author is Charles Taylor (yes, the Charles Taylor) and the subtitle is Poetry in the Age of Disenchantment. This book is a very good introduction to romanticism, and also to the poetry of romanticism, noting that its degree of originality may depend on how much you already know. I liked the chapters on Rilke and Mallarme best, here is one excerpt:
It follows that for Rilke, our full capacity to Praise can only be realized if we take account of the standpoint of the dead. The medium of Preisen is Gesang [song]. thus the voice which most fully carries this song would have to be that of the gold Orpheus, who moves in both realms, that of the living and that of the dead.
And the sonnet is the medium. As its name suggests, it is a poetic form which asks to be heard, and not only read on the page. These two modes of reception are essential to all poetry, but in the sonnet the musical dimension becomes the most important avenue to the message.
So a praise-song from both sides, that of the dead, as well as the living. They call on Orpheus, the singer-god who moves between the two realms. Hence the Sonnets to Orpheus.
I am very glad to see that Taylor is still at it, and 640 pp. at that. Furthermore, this book is (unintentionally?) a good means for thinking about just how much deculturation has taken place.
*Playing Possum: How Animals Understand Death*
That is a forthcoming book by Susana Monsó, and I found it both interesting and illuminating. Here is one excerpt:
This fixation on the face suggests that Firuláis’s initial motivation was probably not to eat his human, but rather that this behavior started as an attempt to make him react. Our face is the part of our bodies that our canine friends pay the most attention to, for it is key to understanding our emotions and communicating with us. Consequently, it is to be expected that Firuláis, upon seeing his caretaker lying still after the gunshot, began to try to get a reaction from him by nudging his face with his snout. In the absence of a response, and in order to calm himself down or out of sheer frustration, he might have started licking, the nibbling, and once blood was drawn the temptation to take a bit might have been overwhelming. That is, it’s likely that Firuláis’s love for his keeper and his anguish upon his lack of response were at the root of his behavior.
Talk about “model this”! Comparative thanatology edition, of course. You can pre-order here.
My Conversation with the excellent Michael Nielsen
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Michael Nielsen is scientist who helped pioneer quantum computing and the modern open science movement. He’s worked at Y Combinator, co-authored on scientific progress with Patrick Collison, and is a prolific writer, reader, commentator, and mentor.
He joined Tyler to discuss why the universe is so beautiful to human eyes (but not ears), how to find good collaborators, the influence of Simone Weil, where Olaf Stapledon’s understand of the social word went wrong, potential applications of quantum computing, the (rising) status of linear algebra, what makes for physicists who age well, finding young mentors, why some scientific fields have pre-print platforms and others don’t, how so many crummy journals survive, the threat of cheap nukes, the many unknowns of Mars colonization, techniques for paying closer attention, what you learn when visiting the USS Midway, why he changed his mind about Emergent Ventures, why he didn’t join OpenAI in 2015, what he’ll learn next, and more.
And here is one excerpt:
COWEN: Now, you’ve written that in the first half of your life, you typically were the youngest person in your circle and that in the second half of your life, which is probably now, you’re typically the eldest person in your circle. How would you model that as a claim about you?
NIELSEN: I hope I’m in the first 5 percent of my life, but it’s sadly unlikely.
COWEN: Let’s say you’re 50 now, and you live to 100, which is plausible —
NIELSEN: Which is plausible.
COWEN: — and you would now be in the second half of your life.
NIELSEN: Yes. I can give shallow reasons. I can’t give good reasons. The good reason in the first half was, so much of the work I was doing was kind of new fields of science, and those tend to be dominated essentially, for almost sunk-cost reasons — people who don’t have any sunk costs tend to be younger. They go into these fields. These early days of quantum computing, early days of open science — they were dominated by people in their 20s. Then they’d go off and become faculty members. They’d be the youngest person on the faculty.
Now, maybe it’s just because I found San Francisco, and it’s such an interesting cultural institution or achievement of civilization. We’ve got this amplifier for 25-year-olds that lets them make dreams in the world. That’s, for me, anyway, for a person with my personality, very attractive for many of the same reasons.
COWEN: Let’s say you had a theory of your collaborators, and other than, yes, they’re smart; they work hard; but trying to pin down in as few dimensions as possible, who’s likely to become a collaborator of yours after taking into account the obvious? What’s your theory of your own collaborators?
NIELSEN: They’re all extremely open to experience. They’re all extremely curious. They’re all extremely parasocial. They’re all extremely ambitious. They’re all extremely imaginative.
Self-recommending throughout.
David Friedman on his father Milton
When my parents got married, they decided that there were certain things that were difficult to say and should therefore be replaced by numbers. Only one survived in actual usage. In their family “number two” meant, in my family still means, “You were right and I was wrong.”
One reason is that it is shorter, so easier to say. A second reason is that using the number reminds speaker and audience that admitting error is a difficult and virtuous thing to do, which makes it easier to do it. A third reason is that using a family code reminds the speaker that he is speaking to people who love him, so are unlikely to take advantage of the confession of error to put him down.
My father used to be fond of the phrase “There is no such thing as a free lunch,” sometimes abbreviated TANSTAAFL. He eventually stopped using it on the grounds that it was not true, that both consumer and producer surplus are, in effect, free lunches. He replaced it with “Always look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Phrases he continued to use included “A bad carpenter blames his tools,” “It is a capital mistake to make the best the enemy of the good” and Cromwell’s “I beseech you, in the bowels of Christ, think it possible you may be mistaken.” He referred to my carrying too many logs in from the woodshed to the fireplace in order to do it in fewer trips as a lazy man’s load.
Here is the full Substack post.
Can they reconstitute Philosphy & Public Affairs?
Here is a recent announcement of note:
We are unanimously resigning from our editorial roles at Philosophy & Public Affairs, published by Wiley, and launching a new diamond open-access journal published by Open Library of Humanities (OLH). All of us will play the same editorial roles in the new journal and will retain the aim of publishing the best philosophical work touching on matters of public importance.
Do read the whole text, but you can imagine how the arguments run. Lots of big names are behind this, including Sen, Scheffler, Srinivasan, Waldron, and others. I am rooting for them, but can this succeed?
How sticky are reputations anyway? Nine months from now, what percentage of people on a university-wide tenure committee will know about this change? Three years from now?
Or consider the new journal itself. Without the long history of famous articles behind it, might it, with the same set of editors, have a lower reputation? Talk about mood affiliation!
Or might the existence of a “naming squabble” itself lower the reputations of both the old journal and the new venture? “Well, if they can’t get along, both outlets will have trouble managing their future reputations…”
Or might some of the highly prestigious editors, over time, be more willing to leave than would have been the case under the old moniker? Perhaps the newly reconstituted board will not be able to get along with itself, not without the final backstop of “the company” (Wiley) to enforce a core on all the bargaining.
If I am in the second year of my tenure clock in a philosophy department, and I have a great paper, do I send it to the new journal? In its old manifestation it was a top top outlet, but is it still? What risks am I running? Or do I send it to the thing still named Philosophy & Public Affairs, which presumably still has some very good new editors.
I will be watching.
The Generalist interviews me
I was happy with how this turned out, here is one excerpt:
I think we’re overestimating the risks to American democracy. The intellectual class is way too pessimistic. They’re not used to it being rough and tumble, but it’s been that way for most of the country’s history. It’s correct to think that’s unpleasant. But by being polarized and shouting at each other, we actually resolve things and eventually move forward. Not always the right way. I don’t always like the decisions it makes. But I think American democracy is going to be fine.
Polarization has its benefits. In most cases, you say what you think, and sooner or later, someone wins. Abortion is very polarized, for example. I’m not saying which side you should think is correct, but states are re-examining it. Kansas recently voted to allow abortion, and Arizona is in the midst of a debate. Over time, it will be settled—one way or another. Slugging things out is underrated.
Meanwhile, being reasonable with your constituents is overrated. Look at Germany, which has non-ideological, non-polarized politics. They’ve gotten every decision wrong. Their whole strategy of buying cheap energy from Russia to sell to China was a huge blunder. They bet most of their economy on it, and neither of those two things will work out. They also have no military whatsoever. It’s not like, “Ok, they don’t spend enough.” They literally had troops that didn’t have rifles to train with and were forced to use broomsticks.
Germany is truly screwed and won’t face up to it. But when you listen to their politicians speak – and I do understand German – they always sound intelligent and reasonable. They could use a dose of polarization, but they’re afraid because of their history, which I get. But the more you look at their politics, the more you end up liking ours, I would say.
I would note that Germany’s various “centrist” or “coalition of the middle” regimes have brought us AfD, which is polarizing in the worst way and considered to be an extremist party worthy of being spied upon.
And this:
What craft are you spending a lifetime honing?
Shooting a basketball. I’ve done that for the longest, outside of eating and breathing. I’m just not very good at it.
I started doing it when I was about eight. We moved close to a house with a hoop, and all the other kids would gather there and play. It was a social thing, and I started doing it. I kept it going in all the different places I’ve lived. The only country I couldn’t keep the habit going was Germany. But when I was living in New Zealand, I made a special point of it. It’s good exercise, it’s relaxing, you get to be outside. It’s a little cold today, but I did it yesterday, and I’ll do it tomorrow.
It’s important to repeatedly do something you’re not that good at. Most successful people are good at what they do, but if that’s all they do, they lose humility. They find it harder to understand a big chunk of the world that doesn’t have their talent or is simply mediocre. It helps you keep things in perspective.
I’m not terrible at it. I have gotten better, even recently. But no one would say I’m really good.
Interesting throughout, as they like to say.
My Conversation with the excellent Coleman Hughes
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is part of the episode summary:
Coleman and Tyler explore the implications of colorblindness, including whether jazz would’ve been created in a color-blind society, how easy it is to disentangle race and culture, whether we should also try to be ‘autism-blind’, and Coleman’s personal experience with lookism and ageism. They also discuss what Coleman’s learned from J.J. Johnson, the hardest thing about performing the trombone, playing sets in the Charles Mingus Big Band as a teenager, whether Billy Joel is any good, what reservations he has about his conservative fans, why the Beastie Boys are overrated, what he’s learned from Noam Dworman, why Interstellar is Chris Nolan’s masterpiece, the Coleman Hughes production function, why political debate is so toxic, what he’ll do next, and more.
Here is one excerpt:
COWEN: How was it you ended up playing trombone in Charles Mingus Big Band?
HUGHES: I participated in the Charles Mingus high school jazz festival, which they still do every year. It was new at the time. They invite bands from all around to audition, and they identify a handful of good soloists and let them sit in for one night with the band. I sat in with the band, and the band leader knew that I lived close by in New Jersey, and so essentially invited me to start playing with the band on Monday nights.
I was probably 16 or 17 at this point, so I would take the NJ Transit into New York City on a Monday night, play two sets with the Mingus Band sitting next to people that had been my idols and were now my mentors — people like Ku-umba Frank Lacy, who is a fantastic trombone player; played with Art Blakey and D’Angelo and so forth. Then I would go home at midnight and go to school on Tuesday morning.
COWEN: Why is the music of Charles Mingus special in jazz? Because it is to me, but how would you articulate what it is for you?
Here is another:
COWEN: If I understand you correctly, you’re also suggesting in our private lives we should be color-blind.
HUGHES: Yes. Broadly, yes. Or we should try to be.
COWEN: We should try to be. This is where I might not agree with you. So I find if I look at media, I look at social media, I see a dispute — I think 100 percent of the time I agree with Coleman, pretty much, on these race-related matters. In private lives, I’m less sure.
Let me ask you a question.
HUGHES: Sure.
COWEN: Could jazz music have been created in a color-blind America?
HUGHES: Could it have been created in a color-blind America — in what sense do you mean that question?
COWEN: It seems there’s a lot of cultural creativity. One issue is it may have required some hardship, but that’s not my point. It requires some sense of a cultural identity to motivate it — that the people making it want to express something about their lives, their history, their communities. And to them it’s not color-blind.
HUGHES: Interesting. My counterargument to that would be, insofar as I understand the early history of jazz, it was heavily more racially integrated than American society was at that time. In the sense that the culture of jazz music as it existed in, say, New Orleans and New York City was many, many decades ahead of the curve in terms of its attitudes towards how people should live racially: interracial friendship, interracial relationship, etc. Yes, I’d argue the ethos of jazz was more color-blind, in my sense, than the American average at the time.
COWEN: But maybe there’s some portfolio effect here. So yes, Benny Goodman hires Teddy Wilson to play for him. Teddy Wilson was black, as I’m sure you know. And that works marvelously well. It’s just good for the world that Benny Goodman does this.
Can it still not be the case that Teddy Wilson is pulling from something deep in his being, in his soul — about his racial experience, his upbringing, the people he’s known — and that that’s where a lot of the expression in the music comes from? That is most decidedly not color-blind, even though we would all endorse the fact that Benny Goodman was willing to hire Teddy Wilson.
HUGHES: Yes. Maybe — I’d argue it may not be culture-blind, though it probably is color-blind, in the sense that black Americans don’t just represent a race. That’s what a black American would have in common — that’s what I would have in common with someone from Ethiopia, is that we’re broadly of the same “race.” We are not at all of the same culture.
To the extent that there is something called “African American culture,” which I believe that there is, which has had many wonderful products, including jazz and hip-hop — yes, then I’m perfectly willing to concede that that’s a cultural product in the same way that, say, country music is like a product of broadly Southern culture.
COWEN: But then here’s my worry a bit. You’re going to have people privately putting out cultural visions in the public sphere through music, television, novels — a thousand ways — and those will inevitably be somewhat political once they’re cultural visions. So these other visions will be out there, and a lot of them you’re going to disagree with. It might be fine to say, “It would be better if we were all much more color-blind.” But given these other non-color-blind visions are out there, do you not have to, in some sense, counter them by not being so color-blind yourself and say, “Well, here’s a better way to think about the black or African American or Ethiopian or whatever identity”?
Interesting throughout.