Nightcap

  1. 5 questions for undecided voters Conor Friedersdorf, Atlantic
  2. Useful libertarian idiocy Will Wilkinson, Open Society
  3. Why not randomize judges and juries? Robin Hanson, Overcoming Bias
  4. Good primer on the Armenian crisis Mark Movsesian, Law & Liberty

Amy Coney Barrett is the start of the rise of the Left

The Left has long been weak. It dominates elite circles, but not much else.

Amy Coney Barrett earned her law degree from Notre Dame. The other 8 justices earned their degrees from Harvard or Yale. President Trump’s ideological shake-up of the Supreme Court bodes well for diversity, which in turn bodes well for a resurgence of the American Left in the civic, intellectual, and moral life of the republic.

The stranglehold that the two schools had on Ivy legal thought has meant that the American Right would always be stronger ideologically as well as civically and morally.

It is perhaps ironic that Donald Trump, in trying to Make America Great Again, has done just that by opening up the avenues of power to diverse modes of thought. Donald Trump’s crusade for diversity has indeed opened up elite American circles to competition. This will only strengthen the Left, as it will now have to incorporate non-professional voices into its apparatuses of power, as the Right has long done with much success.

A strong Left that is not overly reliant on elite opinion bodes well for the republic.

Nightcap

  1. Pagan complacency and the birth of Christian Rome Edward Watts, Aeon
  2. Lessons about globalisation Kenan Malik, Observer
  3. Unschooling + math (see comments, too) Bryan Caplan, EconLog

Nightcap

  1. Fighting famine in the Nazi-occupied Netherlands Ian Buruma, TLS
  2. The settler logics of (outer) space Deondre Smiles, Society + Space
  3. The corporate origins of judicial review (pdf) Mary Sarah Bilder, YLJ
  4. Misremembering the British Empire Maya Jasanoff, New Yorker

Nightcap

  1. In defense of Cortez and the Conquest of the Aztecs Daniel Rey, Spectator
  2. Race and empire in Meiji Japan (1868-1912) Ayelet Zohar, A-PJ
  3. The political legacy of World War I John Moser, Cato Unbound
  4. How working from home will spur creativity Nick Bilton, Vanity Fair

Nightcap

  1. Culture wars are economic at their core Chris Dillow, Stumbling & Mumbling
  2. The anarchy of “blue” cities? Seth Barron, City Journal
  3. Reclaiming the commons from capitalism Dirk Philipsen, Aeon
  4. Utah is not a banana republic Scott Sumner, Money Illusion

Nightcap

  1. Europe and American federalism (pdf) Ernest Young, ASLJ
  2. War is cruelty. You cannot refine it.” Francis Sempa, ARB
  3. A clash of two constitutions John McGinnis, Law & Liberty
  4. Internet culture, east to west Brett Fujioka, Noema

Nightcap

  1. Toward an a priori theory of international relations (pdf) Mark Cravelli, JLS
  2. A fourth way out of the dilemma facing libertarianism (pdf) Laurent Dobuzinskis, C+T
  3. Taobao, federalism, and the emergence of law, Chinese-style (pdf) Liu & Weingast, MLR
  4. A road not taken: the foreign policy vision of Robert A. Taft (pdf) Michael Hayes, TIR

Efficient markets as normative systems

Recently, I came across this outstanding interview with Eugene Fama published by The Market / NZZ. Besides the main subject discussed -the inability of central banks to control inflation-, the interview is intertwined with gripping assertions about the limits of knowledge, such as the following ones:

Bubbles are things people see in hindsight. They don’t identify them in advance. Sure, you can look at the behavior of prices, and you may be able to identify cases where they are too high. But if you only look back and say: «Oh, stocks went down a lot, so that was a bubble», then that’s 20/20 hindsight. At the time, there was no evidence that there was a bubble.

I don’t say markets are completely efficient, but they’re efficient for most questions that I address. Models are never a 100 % true. If they were, we would call them reality, not models. But for almost all purposes, market efficiency is a very good approximation.

The real question is: How do you pick Warren Buffett? The way you pick him is after the fact, since he has done very well. Now, suppose I take 100,000 investors and say: Let’s let them run for 30 years and pick out the winner. Because you roll the dice so many times, even if none of them is a good or bad investor, many investors will do well and many will do poorly purely by chance. Statistically there is also going to be a big winner, but solely due to chance. In other words: There will be extremely good outcomes and extremely bad outcomes, but you just can’t tell who is successful because of luck and who because of skill.

This quotations resemble the distinction made by Friedrich Hayek between relative and absolute limits to explanation (The Sensory Order, 1952):

8.67. Apart from these practical limits to explanation, which we may hope continuously to push further back, there also exists, however, an absolute limit to what the human brain can ever accomplish by way of explanation -a limit which is determined by the nature of the instrument of explanation itself, and which is particularly relevant to any attempt  to explain particular mental processes.

8.68. If our account of the process of explanation is correct, it would appear that any apparatus or organism which is to perform such operations must possess certain properties determined by the properties of the events which it is to explain. If explanation involves that kind of joint classification of many elements which we have described as “model-building”, the relation between the explaining agent and the explained object must satisfy such formal relations as must exist between any apparatus of classification and the individual objects which it classifies (Cf. 5.77-5.91).

5.90. The model building by such an apparatus of classification simplifies the task and extends the scope of successful adaptation in two ways: it selects some elements from a complex environment as relevant for the prediction of events which are important for the persistence of the structure, and it treats them as instances of classes of events. But while in this way a model building apparatus  (and particularly one that can be constantly improved by learning) is of much greater efficiency than could be any more mechanical apparatus which contained, as it were, a few fixed models of typical situations, there will clearly still exist definite limits to the extent to which such a microcosm can contain an adequate reproduction of the significant factors of the macrocosm.

8.69. The proposition which we shall attempt to establish is that any apparatus of classification must possess a structure of a higher degree of complexity than is possessed by the objects which it classifies; and that, therefore, the capacity of any explaining agent must be limited to objects with a structure possessing a degree of complexity lower than its own. […]

Being confronted with an absolute limit to explanation does not mean that chaos lies outside those limits. Indeed, what we have beyond the scope of our models is a complex order -in this case, efficient markets. A kind of order whose “[…] existence need not manifest itself to our senses but may be based on purely abstract relations which we can only mentally reconstruct” (F. A. Hayek, “Law, Legislation, and Liberty”, Chapter II; 1973), and because of that its explanation finds not practical limits but absolute ones. For example, in this field, “passive investing” would be homologous to a law-abiding behaviour or to the moral saying “being honest is the best policy”. Of course, for such systems -economic, legal or moral- to evolve there have to be some “prices”, i.e.: people who trade in the short term or who perform innovative behaviours which establish a new legal precedent or a new habit.

But for this innovation to happen it is indispensable for the agents to count on a framework of stable regularities -usually called abstract or spontaneous orders- upon which they could draw their own “maps”, create new expectations, and coordinate their plans with other agents. That indicates that we have already spent enough ink writing about the economic way of looking at the law, and perhaps it is time to start pondering markets as complex normative systems.

Nightcap

  1. The American Founders’ priceless legacy Myron Magnet, New Criterion
  2. The gonzo constitutionalism of the American Right Corey Robin, NYRB
  3. Britain at the end of history Robert Saunders, New Statesman
  4. Law’s disorder in Nigeria Marc-Antoine Pérouse de Montclos, LMD

Triple-blinded trials in political economy

In medicine, randomized controlled trials are the most highly regarded type of primary study, as they separately track treatment and control groups to determine whether an observed effect is actually caused by the intervention.

Bias, the constant bane of statisticians, can be minimized further by completing a blinded trial. In a single-blinded trial, the patient population is not informed which group they are in, to prevent knowledge of therapy from impacting results. Placebos are powerful, so blinding has helped identify dozens of therapies that are no better than sugar pills!

However, knowledge can contaminate studies in another way–through the physicians administering the therapies. Bias can be further reduced by double blinding, in which the physicians are also kept in the dark about which therapy was administered, so that their knowledge does not contaminate their reporting of results. In a double-blind trial, only the study administrators know which therapy is applied to each patient, and sometimes an independent lab is tasked with analysis to further limit bias.

Overall, these blinding mechanisms are meant to make us more certain that the results of a study are reflective of an intervention’s actual efficacy. However, medicine is not the only field where the efficacy of many interventions is impactful, highly debated, and worthy of study. Why, then, do we not have blinded studies in political economy?

We all know that randomized controlled trials are pretty much impossible in political economy. North/South Korea and West/East Germany were amazing accidental trials, but we can still hope that politicians and economists make policies that can at least be tracked to determine their ‘change from baseline’ even if we have no control group. Because of how easy it is to harm socioeconomic systems and sweep the ruinous results under the rug, I personally consider it unethical to intervene in a complex system without careful prior consideration, and straight up evil to do so without plans to track the impact of that intervention. So, how can politicians take an ‘evidence-based approach’ to their interventions?

I think that, in recent years, politicians–especially in the US and especially liberals and COVID-reactionaries–have come up with an amazing new experimental method: the triple blinded study. Examples include the ACA, the ARRA, and the recent $3 trillion stimulus package. In a triple blinded study, politicians carefully draft bills so that they are (1) too long for anyone, especially the politicians themselves, to read; (2) filled with a mish-mash of dozens of strategies implemented simultaneously or that are delegated vaguely to administrative agencies; and (3) have no pre-specified metrics by which the policy will be judged, thus blinding everyone to any useful study of signal and response.

I am reminded of one of the most painful West Wing episodes ever made, in which “President Bartlett” is addressing an economic crisis, and is fielding dozens of suggestions from experts–without being able to choose among the candidate interventions. Donna, assistant to his Deputy Chief of Staff, tells a parable about how her grandmother would use ‘a little bit of this, a little bit of that’ to cure minor illnesses. Inspired, Bartlett adopts a policy of ALL suggested economic interventions, thus ensuring that we try everything–and learn nothing. I shudder to think that this strategy was ever broached publicly…and copied from fiction into reality.

In this way, politicians have cleverly enabled us to reduce the bias caused by any knowledge of the intervention or its impact. The patients (citizens), physicians (politicians), and study administrators (economists?) are all kept carefully in the dark so that none of them can know how a policy impacted the economy. Thus, anyone debating any of these topics is given the full freedom to invent whatever argument they want, cherry-pick any data they want, and continue peddling their politics without ever being called to task by the data.

Even more insanely, doctors are held not only to the standard of evidence-based medicine, but also to that of of the precautionary principle–where passivity is preferred to action and novel methods are treated with special scrutiny. “Evidence-based policy”, on the other hand, is a buzzword and not an actual practice to align with RCTs, and any politician who actually followed the precautionary principle would be considered ‘do-nothing’. Thus, we carefully keep both evidence and principles of ‘do no harm’ far from the realm of political action, and continue a general practice across politics of the blind making sure that they lead the blind.

In sum, political leaders, please ignore Donna. Stop intentionally blinding us to policy impacts. Stop doing triple-blinded studies with the future of our country. Sincerely, all data-hounds, ever.

Nightcap

  1. American elections: what’s at stake? Branko Milanovic, globalinequality
  2. Covid-19, risks, and rights violations Irfan Khawaja, Policy of Truth
  3. Reading 150 books on Donald Trump Alex Shephard, New Republic

Nightcap

  1. Exercising religion and taming faction Lael Weinberger, LARB
  2. Out of a silent planet Nick Nielsen, Grand Strategy Annex
  3. The broken promises of mid-century liberalism Kim Phillips-Fein, Nation
  4. Grand plans and failed forests Kelvin Mulungu, Africa is a Country

Choosing inadequacy

About a year ago, I had dinner with a friend who I have known more or less my entire life. We hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, though, not since she started college. During the interval, she became an inveterate social climber – at one point avowing completely seriously that she was open to marrying a rich man if it meant that she could have a flat in one of the world’s most expensive cities. She was also an expert at being woke. The contradiction in her thought processes – her craving for a life of riches and luxury and her woke “eat the rich” attitude – caused me to recognize the fuel behind the attraction redistributionist ideologies have for young Americans.

At some point in her trajectory, my friend had pitched on using the education system to climb the social ladder. In fairness to her, there is a pervasive idea that this is a valid approach; J.D. Vance mentioned it in the conclusion to Hillbilly Elegy. Choosing between the flagship state university and a small private liberal arts college, she picked the latter, which was a “social” school held in high esteem regionally and thought to be intellectually rigorous.

Upon graduating and moving two time zones away for graduate school, she made two unwelcome discoveries: 1) she was behind academically and intellectually, and 2) her college had scant brand-name value in the broader world. According to her, her graduate university’s student body was comprised of the children of America’s elite and “who didn’t get into Harvard.” She held a teaching assistantship for 101-level English literature classes and was discomfited to find that her freshmen students were better writers with a broader sense of literature and the humanities than she. She mentioned that she found out about entire chunks of the English literary canon from them, which is appalling given that she had majored in English at her liberal arts college.  

When Austrian novelist Stefan Zweig died, his executors found the manuscript for his novel Rausch der Verwandlung among his papers. The book’s title in English is The Post-Office Girl,[1] and it tells the story of a 1920s provincial girl who assumes a false identity to join the privileged world of her relatives. Everything works out – until it doesn’t:

Unwittingly Christine revealed the gaps in her worldliness. She didn’t know that polo was played on horseback, wasn’t familiar with common perfumes like Coty and Houbigant, didn’t have a grasp of the price range of cars; she’d never been to the races. Ten or twenty gaucheries like that and it was clear she was poorly versed in the lore of the chic. And compared to a chemistry student’s her schooling was nothing. No secondary school, no languages (she freely admitted she’d long since forgotten the scraps of English she’d learned in school). No, something was just not right about elegant Fräulein von Boolen, it was only a question of digging a little deeper […].

After Christine is unmasked, she returns to her previous life but this time she’s angry and bitter, aware now of the existence of another world, one lost through her own irresponsibility. Most of the book is about the girl’s mental unravelling. When I first read the book, I thought his ending of suicidal thoughts and participation in serious criminality to be melodrama for its own sake. Now, I think he was on to something.

In Zweig’s book, the root of the problem is the anti-heroine’s discovery that what is top-notch in her village isn’t held in the same esteem elsewhere: “[W]hat was the showpiece of her wardrobe [a green rayon blouse] yesterday in Klein-Reifling seems miserably flashy and common to her now.” My friend recounted a similar experience cast in academic terms. She slid through high school and college without any struggle. Upon starting her MA, she had difficulty keeping up with her cohort. Three years after starting a doctoral program, her dissertation proposal was rejected, with the evaluators citing lack of languages as one of the reasons. This last is interesting because it connects to Zweig’s list of faults that expose Christine’s real social standing. In the case of my friend, her background became equivalent to Christine’s blouse: haute couture in one locale and unsophisticated in another.

For both the Bright Young Things of Zweig’s world and my own generation more generally, there is a question over culpability. In the book, Christine’s aunt agonizes over the girl’s uncouth manners and dress, repeatedly reminding herself “how was she to know?” My friend and her parents assumed that “the system” would take care of her. Sure, the public school wasn’t great, but it also wasn’t too terrible and everyone else was going there. The college was the best and most expensive private college in the region, so surely the faculty and advisors there knew what they were doing.

This is not to say that there weren’t red flags if one knew where to look. For example, the college offered only two years of accredited foreign language training. My friend acknowledged this contributed to the problems with her first proposal. However, my friend also admitted that she hadn’t considered the curriculum when she picked the college. Her focus had been purely social. Consequently, the truth is that she chose her path at the moment she picked her values.  The fact that her measurement system didn’t hold up well to broader scrutiny is her fault.

Zweig’s anti-heroine contemplates suicide in response to her inadequacy; kangaroo courts, or cancel culture, are more my friend’s style. Not much has changed over the course of a century. In Zweig’s time, self-destruction was the default choice; in ours, destruction of others is the preferred MO. The source of the anger, though, is the same: envy stemming from inadequacy. Unlike the Bright Young Things, though, the modern generations chose their inadequacy.


[1] Much of the crucial action is set in a Swiss hotel, and Wes Anderson has said that the book was one of his inspirations for The Grand Budapest Hotel.

“The only time I’m not thinking about Palantir…”

If you’re not following Palantir, it’s on track to be one of the most important new American firms in geopolitics and security, and it just launched its IPO on September 30. (For what it’s worth, my buy stop is around $12 right now.)

Founded by real-life Ozymandias and California Ideology archon Peter Thiel, and governed by Freud Institute-bloodline parvenu Alex Karp, Thiel has said it will be every bit as important as Facebook is today.

Reading this profile of CEO Alex Karp, in which Karp laments his loss of anonymity and all its hedonistic red-light opportunities, while building a billion-dollar big data company to empower clients like the CIA, reminds me of a quote from Getting Straight.

Why haven’t you learned anything?

It’s all there, it’s all there in Toynbee and those books on the shelf!

Suppression breeds violence!

You’re going to raise the curfew an hour?

Will you look outside?

You see that kid?

Last week he just wanted to get laid.

Now he wants to kill somebody!