Month: February 2008

The Affluent Society

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Today I learned that it’s been fifty years since the publication of The Affluent Society, by one of the 20th century’s great normative economists, John Kenneth Galbraith. That I found out is thanks to this article that, remarkably, argues that Galbraith was “the midwife of miserabilism” because he rejected growth as the sole societal goal, which fits nicely into what I was saying about metrics the other day.

Probably predictably, I dislike the phrase “economic growth” and avoid it wherever possible. What does it mean? Presumably growth in “GDP”, whatever that is, not that “GDP growth” gets a lot of play in the contexts that use economic growth instead. The kind of argument Galbraith was making – that we should aim for more than growth, and that growth can have ill consequences – often gets wrapped up as an “anti-economics” argument, for the same reason that “economic growth” is considered the correct phraseology.

It’s true that “political economy” was money centric in the beginning: it was called “The Wealth of Nations”, after all. While – perhaps because – authors like Galbraith were attacking the “value of our stuff” as a meaningful objective, economic science was maturing to the point where we could suppress the objective and attempt to sterilize the descriptive part of our job. Whether society aims for “GDP growth”, putting a man on the moon or turning lead into gold is another one of those normative questions that belong to a forum of debate.

That’s what makes Galbraith’s essays so important – he was trying to convince, not to prove. He was a master of the provocative opinion piece. The Affluent Society remains a vital argument in support of public works. Paul Krugman was very critical of Galbraith’s stature as an economist in “Peddling Prosperity”, which probably misses the point that Galbraith was making arguments, not scientific economic theory. As a manifesto writer, he was very special indeed.

Economic systems in action

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Here’s a neat article (found via the invaluable Arts and Letters Daily) which is, indirectly, about applied economics. How do you allocate scare places in college classes to a student body?

The article talks about the systems at a few colleges, ranging from sleeping in line to auction systems; the question at hand is “what should we do to allocate these places?”, a nice normative economic question. Wharton’s business school apparently gives students points which they spend in anonymous online auctions to bid for places in courses.

“In other words, Wharton has what may be the most sophisticated, and most confusing, course-registration system ever devised. And, arguably, the fairest. “It’s capitalism gone nuts, but it’s also absolute socialism because everyone is born with the same number of points,” says Justin Wolfers, an assistant professor of business and public policy.”

It’s certainly not “socialist” to give everyone the same number of points: capitalism and socialism are methods of allocating resources, not methods that decide who gets the resources to start with. A socialist system of allocating places would presumably get all the students on campus into a big room and have them decide, which would at least be good fun. I think Wolfers might mean it’s “capitalist but egalitarian”. Equality of opportunity is a different concept from resource allocation.

It’s interesting to see systems of resource allocation go off the deep end: the middle way of just allocating places randomly or having people line up is significantly simpler than either the auction system, or my hypothetical socialist system. How can we make the decision about what system to use? Just like all normative questions, we can’t say which system is “best” or “fairest”, only try to figure out what each system would mean and argue about the rest.

The ends versus means issue in economic systems is an important one. The thought experiment goes like this: if the people’s council knew how a capitalist system would allocate resources, they could choose that allocation. Would that make the socialist system the same as the capitalist system, or is there more invested in the resource allocation mechanism than just the end product? Even figuring out consequences is not enough to answer normative questions.

Here’s the clincher though, about the MIT lottery system:

“The lottery is supposed to be equitable and impersonal, according to Bette K. Davis, office director of the School of Humanities, Arts, and Social Sciences. But that’s not always how it works out. Ms. Davis says that often students who lose the lottery wheedle their way in by talking directly to the professor.”

Capitalist, socialist, anarchist: it’s all about who you know.

Measurement

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Just after talking about the euphemistic use of “economy” yesterday, I found an even better one here:

“Nearly all Italians drink bottled water rather than the piped stuff. The industry is worth an estimated 3.2bn euros (£2.38bn) a year to the Italian economy.”

It would be very refreshing if they’d just say “GDP”, since that’s what they mean. That wouldn’t make it any less understandable either, because “economy” is equally vacuous. Let’s play the show and tell game again: what does the quotation mean?

It can’t mean that “if no bottled water was sold, people would spend 3.2bn euros less” – I’m sure they’d find another way to spend it. It can’t mean “worth 3.2bn euros a year to the Italian resource allocation”, because that’s not a sentence. It can’t mean that “Italian workers/producers would get 3.2bn less in wages/payments a year”, because I’m sure that they could do something else besides produce bottled water.

My best guess is “the Italian bottled water industry makes sales worth 3.2bn every year”. Why, oh why, can’t the reporter simply say that? It’s not remotely the same thing as any of the other suggestions I just made, yet I guess they’re all technically possibilities if we read “economy” as “system of production and consumption” or something like that. If I want to be really obnoxious I could ask whether the reporter has measured every consequence of the hypothetical disappearance of the Italian bottled water industry to come up with his figure.

More to the point, let’s forget about the absurdity of the quotation in itself and ask why the “worth” of any effect on the “economy” measured in money? This screams a confusion of metric and quality, a cardinal sin of positive science; even if I could get an accurate figure for the effect of something on “Gross Domestic Product”, I still think “worth” is too loaded a term.

A big chunk of the gulf between theoretical economics and empirical testing of real-world relationships is the metrics we use. Our abstractions work (or can, or should work) in a world where we measure outcomes agnostically: if you care about this. Theoretical economists can play in imaginary worlds all day, exploring the “relationships” between fundamentally unmeasurable things under their assumptions. On the other hand, some imaginary concept like “utility” is singularly useless if we want to actually talk about the real world. Empirical economists must deal with this problem somehow: if you want to talk about the effect of this measurable thing on that measurable thing you must explicitly ignore the intangible (like, perhaps, satisfaction).

Then what conclusions can we draw? This affects that, but not how “good” it is. This is, again, the reason why economics can never be a technocratic prescription of what “should” be done; we simply have no real-world metric to answer the question, and our theoretical metrics are unobservable. It’s the power and beauty of the science – we don’t have the answers. Is someone pretending to? Just for fun, I Googled “what’s wrong with GDP”. When our metrics are the sole determinant of policy, of course the metric – and, by extension, economics – comes under intense attack.

Now that’s all well and good until we get to economics teaching, practice and discussion which ignores this important conclusion. I don’t deny the challenge of constant vigilance to make sure student, reader, researcher know that we’re dealing with only what we can measure, but nothing short of a commitment to acknowledge the limitations of measurement at every turn will be enough to dispel the notion that the science of economics can tell us what to do.

Euphemisms

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It’s just semantics, but I wish there was an easy solution to the problem of using the word “economics” as a euphemism for real stuff. How unusual would it be for this story on General Motors’ headache-inducing losses to expire without a use of the word “economics” or “economy”? There’s actually only one:

“But the worsening economy in the United States led to higher fourth-quarter losses in the region: $1.1 billion, compared to $30 million in 2006.”

What does that mean? Does it mean “people are losing their jobs”? “There might be inflation going on”? “People are defaulting on their mortgages”? Seriously, if it means anything in itself, I don’t know what it is. I even looked up the word “economy”, and I think the definition that’s being implied is “the system or range of economic activity in a country, region, or community”: almost a perfect tautology.

That old writer’s maxim “show, don’t tell” should be, in my ideal world, applied to every use of the phrase “worsening economy”, “economic trends”, “the economy”, and all the others you can think of. They’re empty on two levels: structurally there’s the reflexive definition, but more importantly in a news story designed to inform, it obscures whatever the actual thing is.

Here’s another example:

“The Bank of England cut UK interest rates last week to 5.25% from 5.5% in an attempt to prevent a major slowdown in the economy.”

What does “major slowdown in the economy” mean? More unemployment? Less money for the common man? So help me, GDP? It surely can’t mean a “slowdown in the allocation of resources”, because that’s not a sentence. Show, don’t tell. Actually, the second example actually might be a step up from the first because it has the slightly less loaded “slowdown” rather than “worsening”. Don’t tell me how to feel when whatever you’re talking about happening happens!

Heterodox economists

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A couple of months ago, seemingly every book review section in every newspaper or magazine carried a review of “How To Talk About Books You Haven’t Read” (here’s an example). How is a literary critic supposed to resist reviewing a title like that?

I have here a book called “A Guide To What’s Wrong With Economics“; how am I supposed to resist looking at a book like that? More to the point, I haven’t actually read it properly yet, but just by browsing I know what it’ll say, because it’s actually a (very thorough) critique of that thing called “neoclassical economics“, which is familiar but important stuff, even if my guide would be a bit different. Economists who write these kind of books are, by the way, called “heterodox economists”, though perhaps not by themselves.

There are lots of promising chapter titles, anyway: “The Pitfalls of Mainstream Economic Reasoning (and Teaching)”, “Five Pieces of Advice for Students Studying Microeconomics”… there’s a whole section called “Micro Nonsense”! I feel compelled to share this brilliant quotation:

“Because there is no direct access to the ‘real’ world, an economist is forced to see that world through the lenses of theory.”

Either I’m living in a complicated dream, or we do actually have access to the real world… I see what the author (Charles Wilber, in the chapter “Teaching Economics as if Ethics Mattered”) is getting at, though. It’s a theme that keeps cropping up throughout the book, one that seems to be raised again and again, something like “there is not enough diversity in economics teaching and practice”. I think Wilber might be saying that the economist is forced to see the world through the lenses of a particular theory that he, and the heterodox economists, dislike.

Superficially, I agree, if by that we mean that too often differences of opinion are suppressed in the profession, when in fact positive economics is logically incapable of doing so. However, the criticisms being raised again and again in the book are that “neoclassical economics” is taught as a loaded dogma, which is terrible, but not the same thing. The method of economics, whatever you think of it, can accommodate anything, any theory. Not just that, but exactly the same “anything” could happily be accommodated in any other method.

Would the authors be happy if we taught our methods on a blank slate, or would they demand that their own particular views were put on the academic pedestal? This must not degenerate into an arms race: the method is the language, not the meaning. I am suspicious that the “heterodox” economists want to change the language only to change the meaning. Please: there is no substance in a method, a language.

Actual theories are invoked incessantly, through all chapters: the usual suspects, like perfect competition, “rationality”, equilibrium… what’s “wrong” with economics, according to these essays, is that these theories are presented as “true”. Now, of course, a proved theory cannot be false under its own conditions; by “true” we really mean “does not conform to the real world, either in assumption or prediction”. That’s something I can buy into, and that is, perhaps, the valid, practical version of the criticism.

It’s twofold: first, using methods to promote a single normative angle is certainly possible, but doesn’t show what the method can do, and in any case is probably bad teaching. Second, it might indeed be nice to bring some more reality into introductory economics courses, not just “applications”. There are certainly valid reasons to construct abstractions, but it might keep people on board if we devote at least some time to economics that conforms to reality – it’s odd that when a student progresses through an economics sequence, the economics she sees often gets less unreal as it gets more esoteric, if that makes sense. We don’t need boring tables of numbers, just show the flexibility of the economic method to deal with the real.

What bothers me about this so-called “heterodox economics” is that it’s attacking the wrong thing. They are not questioning the teaching and practice of economics by digging as far as it’s possible to dig to find the true foundations of what we do, absent any superficial details. Whether it’s right or wrong to try that, it’s fundamentally different to the heterodox method. See the wood for the trees: you don’t have to convince anyone – student, economist, layperson – that economic theory is usually unrealistic. Deep down, though, we’re all playing for the same team, and if we could just figure out what our team was doing, we could have a real competition.

Principles of Economics

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Here at Brown University, our Econ 101 course is actually numbered EC0110 and is called “Principles of Economics”. Like a lot of introductory undergraduate-level economics courses, it uses Greg Mankiw’s book of the same name. What is a principle of economics? Here’s the list that Mankiw suggests in the book:

1. People Face Tradeoffs
2. The Cost of Something is What You Give Up to Get It
3. Rational People Think at the Margin
4. People Respond to Incentives
5. Trade Can Make Everyone Better Off
6. Markets Are Usually a Good Way to Organize Economic Activity
7. Governments Can Sometimes Improve Market Outcomes
8. A Country’s Standard of Living Depends on Its Ability to Produce Goods and Services
9. Prices Rise When the Government Prints Too Much Money
10. Society Faces a Short-Run Tradeoff Between Inflation and Unemployment

Are these principles? I cannot square any of 5 through 10 with any definition of “principle”; those are, at best, positive economic results (not to be too facetious, but by 10 I think many students must be asleep). A principle, to me, is something that you hold as a fundamental truth, before, during and after you do anything. I see the logic in writing a list that looks like this: it summarizes a lot of the “received wisdom” in our discipline.

That, however, is exactly the problem. How can I teach an anti-capitalist student economics if my first lesson says “Markets Are Usually a Good Way to Organize Economic Activity”? “Good” is a normative judgment; the statement is loaded with value and intent. It’s a huge result built on so many layers of qualifications that I couldn’t possibly say it with a straight face. It’s not possible to sell economics as scientific and flexible if we recite dogma in lesson one. Economics is not capitalism. Maybe that should be a principle.

I should probably make some kind of attempt to define “principles” as I see them.

1. Economics tries to describe and predict things about the world around us.
2. Economics is divided into value-free positive method (what will happen, or how do I achieve a particular goal) and normative opinion (what ought to be done). It can inform debate through the former, but cannot settle it, because there are no right or wrong opinions.
3. Economists assume people act as if they try to get their preferred outcome of the ones that are available, but they don’t restrict what people’s preferences are.
4. Positive economics uses simplified models or empirical observation to describe or predict what will happen, and must never make value judgments. We can try to interpret the validity of positive results by testing them against real-world data or by figuring out what would happen if we made different simplifying assumptions.

I’m just thinking (typing?) out loud, and certainly a more thoughtful attempt would be justified. My “list” is certainly less snappy, that’s for sure. In general, though, I really believe that “principles” should describe the foundations of economics, not its received wisdom. The foundations of economics can accommodate everyone, not just those who would find themselves nodding agreement at a statement like “A Country’s Standard of Living Depends on Its Ability to Produce Goods and Services”. With no exaggeration, I can say this is like opening Music 101 with a list of principles that includes “Only Rock Music Is Good Music” or something equally ridiculous. It is heartbreaking.

Rather delightfully, this list of “Principles of Feminist Economics” – again, I must confess, I don’t often see how “[blank] economics” is distinct from “economics”, especially since the [blank] is usually a value judgment – is, despite dripping with normative statement, actually more palatable to me than Mankiw’s list. At a bare minimum, looking at them side by side reveals how neither of them can possibly be considered “principles of economics”. I’m sure mine can’t either, but you get the point: I think a minimum requirement for a list of principles is that they be basic and as agreeable as possible to the people who care.

I applaud the goals of this page entitled “Great Ideas For Teaching Economics”, even if a few of them are really more “how to get people interested”. Allow me to quote at length this contribution from Hugh Himan:

“For a number of years I have devoted 6-9 class meetings in the Principles of Economics course to class debates on current economic issues.

Objectives:

1) to acquaint students with the reality that economists as well as people in general do not think alike on economic issues;

2) to have students realize that disagreements on issues reflect both different positive economic views (cause and effect) as well as normative difference (values)

3) to challenge their own thinking about economic issues

4) to have each student experience through a debate on the beliefs and values of the three major paradigms of Conservative, Liberal and Radical.

The debates are evaluated by the students and instructor on the basis of specific criteria with final scores tabulated on a 100 point scale. The evaluations are based upon how well the team presented their assigned position, not whether the evaluator agrees or disagrees with that particular paradigm.

It has been my experience that the students truly get involved with these debates, well beyond the proportion of the final grade their scores represent. Most enjoy the role playing, some even dressing as they think a Conservative, Liberal or Radical would appear.

Beyond the enjoyment many experience, I like to think that they have gained deep insight into issues i.e., that problems can be viewed differently based upon one’s belief as to “truth” causes and effects as well as on the basis of values (no good vs. bad but in terms of relative priorities). For so many students I have taught over the years who tend to think there are single, simple answers to such problems as poverty, unemployment, national defense, acid rain, exposure to the complexity of such issues is important to their education.”

This is, indeed, a great idea. Is there a better way of understanding the very concept of normative judgment than to force students to debate from all sides? I think it might be fun to ask students to shout out anything they can think of, and to write down an “economic model” that proves it. This really invites students to think of 1) how flexible positive economics is, 2) the importance of assumptions, 3) how to judge an economic theory, and 4) the role of normative opinion.

We need all three levels of understanding in economics: positive, value-free, empty economic science; interpreting whether the positive results are correct, either empirically or by exploring the implications of alternative assumptions; normative, value-laden opinion. Exercises that can explore these distinctions are the most valuable in our teaching arsenal. A list of “principles” pregnant with loaded statements is not the right way to present our discipline.

Teaching

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Just a quick footnote to the economic man stuff. Talking about Wikipedia probably gives me a credibility problem, but the page I referred to yesterday to is actually pretty impressive, and has some good points worth mentioning.

“One problem with making the Homo economicus model more sophisticated is that sometimes the model becomes tautologically true, i.e., true by definition. If someone has a “taste” for variety, for example, it becomes difficult if not impossible to distinguish economic rationality from irrationality. In this case, the Homo economicus model may not add any new information at all to our economic understanding.”

Indeed: anything can be rationalized. The whole sorry debate about economic man could probably be avoided if we understand that “the Homo economicus model” isn’t supposed to add new information to our economic understanding. The economist’s ultimate goal is not to figure out how people behave – that’s just something we have to address along the way to describing things. Economic man is no more of an end than the super-supercomputer I invoked yesterday.

However, my favorite bit from the page is this nice little dig:

“These criticisms [of economic man] are especially valid to the extent that the professor asserts that the simplifying assumptions are true and/or uses them in a propagandistic way.”

No argument here. Economics teaching is usually depressing. Why is the first thing students of economics see a supply and demand diagram? How does that help them understand what we’re trying to do, what we assume? How, more importantly, is that value free? How can that separate economics from capitalism, money, markets? How can that be economics?

“It is primarily when targeting the limiting assumptions made in constructing undergraduate models that the criticisms listed above are valid.”

Imagine hundreds, thousands of students come to you every year. You can show them why your subject is exciting, what it can do philosophically and practically, ask big questions, educate an astonishing number of diverse students, make the next generation of economists good scientists while allowing all normative opinion to flourish around the argument. You can take students with all preconceptions, with all beliefs, and send those students away in their diversity of thought as economists. The next generation of economists would have a fighting chance of being value-free, and the debate wouldn’t be “us versus the economists”, but just “us”.

Hundreds of thousands of students do come to Econ 101 every year. We show them a supply and demand diagram and reinforce all prejudices. We present economics as an answer. How many minds do we lose? How can we tolerate the waste?

Who is economic man?

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A provocative opening to this article attacking something called “economic man”:

“Myth: Homo economicus is a valid assumption of human behavior.
Fact: Homo economicus is a fiction useful to right-wing economists.”

“Economic man” would be too easy, of course; “Homo economicus” sounds more intellectual and somehow also more ridiculous. Anyway, if I pretend not to see the right-wing bit – what’s a right-wing economist? – I think the fact is a fact and the myth is a fact too, and not just because defining a “valid assumption” is not quite as obvious as it seems.

The essay is actually pretty interesting, though obviously normatively motivated. It goes on to say:

“Specifically, social scientists believe that human behavior is often complex, imperfect, limited, self-contradictory and unpredictable. Homo economicus, however, is a greatly simplified model which assumes that individuals possess the following traits:

* Perfect self-interest
* Perfect rationality
* Perfect information”

I love that “human behavior is…. unpredictable”; the logical conclusion of that argument would be to abandon all social science, would it not? Let’s take the long view and ignore that bit. Aside from that, as I’ve argued before, the perfect information trait has been scrutinized intently for a few decades, so it’s probably an obsolete criticism. The rationality bit is, again, untestable, since what we mean by rationality is that some pattern that’s to some degree predictable – whatever it might be – affects behavior.

The self-interest trait is the one that comes in for a lot of criticism, in the essay and generally. The most important myth to dispel right away is that “self-interest” means “cares only about things that materially affect me”; it means “cares only about things that I care about”, which is delightfully tautological and more innocuous. We have a special definition of “selfish”. I think what the critic really means is more in the spirit of the following, from Wikipedia (sorry):

“Economic man is also amoral, ignoring all social values unless adhering to them gives him utility. Some believe such assumptions about humans are not only empirically inaccurate but unethical.”

There are two problems with that: one is the use of “unethical”, which I’ll save for another day, and the second is methodological. It’s possible to write down a rational, self-interested “economic man” who will do anything. Literally anything can be “rationalized”; it’s meaningless to say that it’s “empirically inaccurate” to assume that “social values” give a person utility, because it’s impossible to empirically answer that question one way or another. Economists seeking accuracy would, methodologically, model a person who acted in accordance with social values as if that person got utility from conforming to social values. Our rational, self-interested man has magically developed a social conscience!

Later in the original article, the author says (in direct contradiction to their earlier claim that behavior is unpredictable, by the way):

“Biologists recognize four levels of survival: the gene, the individual, the group, and the specie. All of them interact to produce the complex and often paradoxical behavior we witness in humans. The error of Homo economicus is that it focuses only on one level: the individual. It cannot explain why couples bear children (to promote genetic survival), or why soldiers often sacrifice their lives in war (to promote group survival), or why people practice charity (to promote human survival).”

Again, I can only plead that we recognize that whatever economists do or are perceived to do, their method of modeling people can explain anything, and I mean that as both a criticism and a compliment. Our method is neutral, our method is empty. Attack the normative interpretation of our conclusions. Attack the assumptions we make. Don’t attack the method: you’re shooting at thin air.

Let’s do a thought experiment: imagine we had a super-supercomputer that could accommodate all the complexity we wanted, and imagine that our computer has also figured out how to perfectly model every single human being, and imagine that we believe it. Forget the fatalist implications and just ask: would an economist – who seeks to model choice and the allocation of scarce resources, to describe the world, to make predictions, and, ultimately, to inform – reject the computer? Would he reject the model? If he would, he is not a scientist: if the economist would reject it, then I’ll let all the critics of economics attack him, because surely the only way to justify rejection of that gift would be because the model would generate predictions that the economist didn’t like.

Economists should never make their “economic man” to suit their ideological goals. That’s not science. We must make our “economic man” realistic but clear, acknowledge what he does and does not do, what he does and does not embody. He can be anything we want: we are therefore powerful, and must then be honest, if nothing else.

Perhaps we should stop using this phrase

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I mentioned the old “dismal science” slight on economics the other day. It’s not exactly new news, but I like the story of the origins of the term a lot, because knowing it would surely cause people to think twice before using the phrase.

Here‘s a good article that tells the story of Thomas Carlyle’s first uses of the phrase.

“Carlyle attacked Mill, not for supporting Malthus’s predictions about the dire consequences of population growth, but for supporting the emancipation of slaves. It was this fact—that economics assumed that people were basically all the same, and thus all entitled to liberty—that led Carlyle to label economics “the dismal science.””

Now, economics is probably pretty low on the list of reasons to oppose slavery, but it seems that Carlyle was taking issue with John Stuart Mill (among others) for arguing that since people are basically the same, there’s no such thing as a “natural” hierarchy of people. Carlyle’s position, sadly, speaks for itself:

“Carlyle disagreed with the conclusion that slavery was wrong because he disagreed with the assumption that under the skin, people are all the same. He argued that blacks were subhumans (“two-legged cattle”), who needed the tutelage of whites wielding the “beneficent whip” if they were to contribute to the good of society.”

Aside from its connotations – which are about as politically incorrect as it’s possible to be these days, and would certainly not be allowed to be printed in any of the places where we see the phrase “dismal science” – the target Carlyle was directing his argument towards is not much like the method of economic science at all. In fact, he seems to really be taking issue not with the practice of scientific, positive economics but with the assumptions the economists made about people. From another article on the same subject:

“In short, Carlyle was of the view that compulsion, rather than market forces should regulate the supply of labour on plantations in the West Indies because the laws of supply and demand are not appropriately applied to the relationship between White and Black as they are contrary to “their mutual duties” (white = master and black = servant) as ordained by “the Maker of them both”. In Carlyle’s opinion: “declaring that Negro and White are unrelated, loose from one another, on a footing of perfect equality, and subject to no law but that of supply and demand according to the Dismal Science”, “is clearly no solution” to the problem.”

Oddly enough, and though it’s probably ridiculous to compare them, Carlyle is attacking exactly the same assumption that is still criticized today: the assumption on the motivation of people in economic models. Certainly the reasoning of the critic of today is significantly less outrageous than Carlyle’s, but they’re shooting at the same target.

Carlyle certainly seems to demand a different kind of response than today’s defense of the modeling of people – “it’s just an abstraction, we know we’re not being realistic”. Luckily, as some of Mill’s angry and eloquent responses indicate, Carlyle’s normative beliefs were vigorously challenged right from the start. His assumption was, I hope we can agree, unrealistic. If he had performed a positive economic analysis based on his assumption, it would have been badly wrong and inaccurate.

No normative belief or opinion can ever be “wrong”, but an assumption can certainly be wrong. Which assumption would lead to better economic science: Carlyle’s assumption of natural servitude or Mill’s assumption of natural equality? If Carlyle had argued that slavery was a good thing, plenty of people would have disagreed with his opinion. When he argued that people are inequal and thus servitude is a better use of people than freedom, he didn’t just have an objectionable opinion, he had bad science.

Modern economics has fought hard to work the number of abstractions made on the motivation of people down to just one: rationality. We don’t restrict what people care about, we just require there to be some method to the madness. Economics should be value-free, boring, scientific, clinical, and, yes, dismal, but I’d think twice before I called it the “dismal science”.

Looking at brains

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A related question to what people want is what makes people happy. The answers aren’t necessarily the same, but in thinking about one, especially as a modeler, it helps to think about the other.

I saw Andrew Caplin talk a couple of months ago about this paper, in the growing neuroeconomics field. My layperson’s understanding of neuroeconomics is that it looks at the brain to try and figure out what’s going on while we make choices. It seems to be concerned at least as much with “what makes people happy” (or at least what makes their brain light up on the machines) as it is with what people actually choose, a point that separates it somewhat from other economic fields that take preferences as given and observe only choices. The argument, presumably, is that knowing more about what motivates people might shed more light on their choices.

Caplin described a paper titled, excellently, “Responses of monkey dopamine neurons to reward and conditioned stimuli during successive steps of learning a delayed response task” (link) which described a Pavlovian experiment on monkeys. First the monkeys were given food, which set off a dopamine response in their brains, supposedly a sign of pleasure. Then the researchers started to ring a bell before giving the food, and the dopamine response shifted from the food to the bell. Finally, they rang the bell and withheld the food, and the dopamine measure showed pleasure at the bell and disappointment at the time when the food was expected.

The upshot is that this physical measure of pleasure in the brain seems to show that news was just as important as the tangible outcome: the monkeys don’t just care about the food. People, too, clearly care about more than just money, goods or tangible outcomes: perhaps I am happy to see a good weather forecast for tomorrow even though I didn’t actually get anything.

It’s related to the great loss and rediscovery of preferences in economics. At some point (to grossly oversimplify the history) the profession settled on making abstract simplifications of people’s motivations. Then a while went by and someone said “people don’t conform to your economic theory, they must be irrational!”, when of course the more obvious explanation is that people’s motivations are more complex than the simplification. If people care only about money, then according to some theory I should see this. If I see that instead, I have not disproved the theory independently from the assumption on preferences.

The potentially exciting thing about neuroeconomics is that, even allowing for inexactness, it might tell us more about the actual hedonic motivators of people. Ambitious, yes, but not unimaginable. Of course, to an economist who wasn’t under the mistaken impression that simplified preferences are supposed to be realistic, it might just amount to saying “your simplification is a simplification”, which is slightly less exciting news. Or not news at all.

In fact, one interpretation of the monkey result might be that new information – or expectations – matters to people’s decisions. Macroeconomists – Nobel memorial winners, Phelps and Friedman – incorporated expectations into their models forty years ago. If anything, what we’re seeing is individual-level (or at least individual monkey-level) evidence that, yes, expectations are important. That might be another way of saying that evidence from experimental/behavioral/neuroeconomics like this is fun, but it doesn’t materially change what economists are up to: if more complexity makes our modeling more accurate, we often end up doing it.