$1000 prize for short essay on measurement & public policy

For all those with something to say about the need for better measurement to inform public policy, I bring you this notice from the Fraser Institute:

The Fraser Institute is launching a new contest to identify economic and public policy issues which still require proper measurement in order to facilitate meaningful analysis and public discourse.

The Essay Contest for Excellence in the Pursuit of Measurement is an opportunity for the public to comment on an economic or public policy issue that they feel is important and deserves to be properly measured.
 
A top prize of $1,000 and other cash prizes can be won by identifying a vital issue that is either not being measured, or is being measured inappropriately.  Acceptable entry formats include a short 500-600 word essay, or a short one-minute video essay.
 
Complete details and a promotional flyer are available at: http://www.fraserinstitute.org/programsandinitiatives/measurement_center.htm.
 
Entry deadline is Friday, May 15th, 2009.
 
Sponsored by the R.J. Addington Center for the Study of Measurement.
 
 
Enquiries may be directed to:
 
Courtenay Vermeulen
Education Programs Assistant
The Fraser Institute
Direct: 604.714.4533
courtenay.vermeulen@fraserinstitute.org

 

Galbraith again

Recently it's books at the intersection of economics and political philosophy which have been on my reading list, as research for my own forthcoming works – a publication on Public Value for the BBC Trust, discussing how we put the principle into action, and my forthcoming magnum opus for Princeton University Press.

So, having dipped into Galbraith's The Great Crash of 1929, and quite liking that, I turned this week to The Affluent Society. It reminded me how much in general I don't like Galbraith's books. Certainly, he gave us some memorable phrases  – conventional wisdom, private affluence and public squalor. And on the face of it, this is very much another title for our own times, with the conspicuous consumerism of the boom giving way to the nightmare public finances of the crash, not to mention degraded public realm in some western societies. Even so, The Affluent Society is a disappointing book.

Why? It's full of swipes against conventional economics, which might help explain my reaction. It also attacks, in an equally unreasoned and unevidenced way, big business, and is the forerunner of all of today's ideological diatribes against multinationals such as Noreena Hertz's truly atrocious Silent Takeover or Naomi Klein's somewhat better No Logo. I give Galbraith much credit for his early awareness of environmental problems but he didn't build on it constructively. This is a negative book, like the modern anti-capitalist literature: against growth, against business, and for active redistribution of incomes which – certainly if the pie has to shrink – is nothing more than class war posturing.  (Yes, also back in fashion, at least here in the UK.)

But there's more to it than that. The Affluent Society is not analytical. It does not present arguments supported by evidence. It's a long rant with many non sequiturs and no clear flow of logic through the book. There is masses of rhetoric instead, but written in the most Latinate and ponderous style. I gave up counting the number of double negatives, for instance, one of Galbraith's favourite techniques for sounding impressive (I guess) – but in fact pompous and obfuscatory. Why does he have a reputation for being such a good writer? The book is in fact a hard slog, from which a few soundbites shine out of the page.

Of course, the book was and is a huge success, so millions of people see something in it that I don't. But I wonder how many in fact read it – or was it an equivalent to A Brief History of Time, which lingers unread on so many shelves?

Light reading on statistics

As a little light relief from ethics, social justice, well-being etc, I just finished The Drunkard's Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives by Leonard Mlodinow. This first came out in 2008 and is now in paperback, having achieved an endorsement from Stephen Hawking and bestseller status.

For those who have made it through any kind of econometrics course there is nothing new here, but it does have one of the clearest explanations of conditional probability I've come across. Ever struggled to explain the Monty Hall problem? Try the account here in Chapter 3. I'll be passing the book to son number 1 who has to complete his statistics A level this summer and get a grade A. This chapter and chapter 6 on false positives should be absolutely compulsory reading for anyone who practices medicine and has to understand and explain test results, and indeed for anyone who's a patient trying to make sense of the kind of probabiilities bandied about with diagnoses.

All this and highly readable, although not as hilarious as the blurb makes out: physicists seem to have a sense of humour not dissimilar to that of economists but we must acknowledge that normal people are different….

Here are reviews from the New York Times and The Guardian and the Wall Street Journal, all positive.

Morals and Markets

Even before the Crash cast its shadow over the status of markets (at least of the unconstrained financial variety) as an organizing principle, a growing number of economists had been pondering why it is that markets sometimes work well and sometimes not. I've recently read two books, both published last year and therefore written at least during the previous year, with similar titles. One is Moral Markets: The Critical Role of Values in the Economy edited by Paul Zak. The other is Morals and Markets: An Evolutionary Account of the Modern World by Daniel Friedman. Both cover similar ground to some earlier books too – I'd highlight the marvellous Company of Strangers by Paul Seabright, published in 2004. All of these are related to the wider interest amongst economists in recent times in institutions, social capital, networks and so on.

A cynic might ask what the words 'morals' and 'markets' are doing in the same sentence. What all of these books have in common is an argument that the two are inescapably entwined, and markets embed morals. What we need are markets that embed the morals which matter to the societies in which they're operating. All three of these titles take an evolutionary and sociological perspective on that fundamental institution of modern economies, the market. For one of the great merits of this inter-disciplinary lens is that it does highlight the fact that markets are social institutions, one of an array whereby we organize social relations and the collective allocation of resources in any society which expands in size much beyond the hunter-gatherer group. Anybody who considers specific markets in detail – that is, any applied microeconomist – will understand already that relationships matter in markets, that the idea of a 'free' market is a ludicrously silly abstraction, that markets are themselves institutions shaped by their social and politicl context. Yet having this spelled out in a broader argument is incredibly worthwhile if it helps move the sterility of the 'markets versus state' debate.

The two new titles also appeal to the richer economics tradition in emphasizing values, taking us back to our roots in Adam Smith (not his caricature but the real thing) and David Hume. Both placed great emphasis on the importance of our human concern for others, our social nature. For them there was no clash between self-interest and moral behaviour, as concern for others and for their approval is so instinctive as to shape what we consider our self-interest. This understanding of our natural moral sentiments is supported by evolutionary theory, according to both Friedman and the Zak volume. This points naturally to the conclusion, as Friedman puts it, that a well-functioning market works with the moral system. I think we can conclude that 21st century financial markets had strayed too far from our moral instincts, and hence the generalized revulsion now against inequality, greed, and excess. Our instinctive sense of fairness has been offended.

The authors represented in both volumes – like Paul Seabright in his earlier book – are not critics of markets or of economics. On the contrary, the division of labour and transmission of information permitted by markets is fundamental to the social and cultural evolution of human societies. What these books emphasize is that the beneficial effects depend on markets (like any other institution) working in concord with our evolutionary nature including the moral emotions it has shaped.

Of the two, the Friedman book is an interesting read with many illuminating examples. I'm still a huge fan of the earlier Seabright book, but this is a good addition to the bookshelf too: the examples are different, and there are interesting links to the economics of networks, which seems to me the most fruitful way to think about social capital. The Zak volume, as an edited collection, is harder going to read but has a correspondingly wider range of ideas and examples – authors include Elinor Ostrom, Frans de Waal, Vernon Smith, Charles Handy, amongst others. I found many new-to-me ideas in it – including a very interesting explanation of why 'anti-capitalism' critics get such traction in the public debate, in terms of Aristotelean rhetorical rules. I'll start applying the art of rhetoric in my own work in future.

Of course, what we can now see as a sub-genre of economics books which cover the border of economics, evolutionary theory and social anthropology fit within a wider philosophical debate about the just society and the nature of the social contract. Events – the Crash, globalisation, the emergence of the BRICs –  have re-opened this debate, and we should all start dusting off our old copies of Hobbes, Locke and Hume.

Starting a new book

It's crunchtime (in the non-financial sense of the word) for me: the contract for my next book has been sent by Richard Baggaley of Princeton University Press. Every time I've finished writing a book, I've sworn never to do another, and then a year or two passes and somehow the idea of another one seems irresistible. Tonight I'm meeting the wonderful Peter Dougherty, the head of PUP and author of Who's Afraid of Adam Smith, to celebrate. (He's here for the London Book Fair.) Readers of this blog will be able to follow my progress, and without doubt offer encouragement and advice, in the months ahead.