That is the name of my latest trade.
The artist’s name is Gregory Dolnikowski. He is a nutrition professor at Tufts University; and he paints in his spare time.
Gregory learned to paint when he was young from his mother who was an artist. (Among other things, she painted the background scenes for displays in the Boston Museum of Natural History.)
Gregory is quite an active artist. He regularly displays his art around Boston; many people commission his paintings; and he even paints at parties. His work can be seen here:
http://www.yessy.com/gregdolnikowski
I had a lovely chat with Gregory before Christmas. Nature often inspires his painting: for instance, a rainstorm that beat down upon the windows in his studio inspired The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow.
Listening to Gregory talk about his painting definitely made me want to paint. He clearly finds immense pleasure in the act of painting. He told me that he sometimes loses himself in music as his brush swirls around a canvas. And he particularly enjoys painting at parties, which I must admit sounds like a lot of fun. Best of all, he has a regular job and so doesn’t have to starve like Van Gogh.
Trading for Gregory’s painting was a great way to end the year. I really do feel like that the universe has given me a Christmas gift.
Maybe next year, the universe will give me a Van Gogh for Christmas.
Of course, to get a Van Gogh, I need to make some trades.
So, just to help the universe along a little bit (especially now that I feel as if it is actively on my side), I can’t help but announce:
I want someone to trade for The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
I want someone to trade for The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
I want someone to trade for The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow
If anyone wants to trade for a Dolnikwoski original, let me know.
You can reach me at: pstudtmann@gmail.com
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
Akrasia
Peter Smith is a curious artist.
It seems to me that there is a continuum of attitudes about art: On one extreme it is all about the process and/or beauty that comes from making art. On the other extreme it is all about the product, which inevitably comes along with the painter’s reputation and a price.
Peter Smith stands on the far end of the first extreme. He avoids attention; he does not show his art; and he does not even sign his art. He simply likes making works that he thinks are interesting and hanging them in his house.
‘Akrasia’ means weakness of the will. Smith’s painting is chaotic and yellow. It barely coheres. In fact, except for the figure on the top left, it seems random, as if forces entirely indifferent to painting produced it. Even the color does not in some sense of these words ‘make sense’.
And yet it is visually intriguing and demands attention. My eye vacillates between the turtle-like (in a post-modern way) figure on the top left and the blobbish slightly phallic red figure on the lower right. It then wanders over to the ghoulish looking figure that is emerging from the red blob. And then it returns to the post-modern turtle.
Were I to be potentially foolish and pronounce on the meaning of this painting – potentially foolish, because paintings don’t obviously mean anything; but then again, maybe they do – I would say the following: Akrasia is a glimpse into utter weakness of the will, a condition in which nothing makes sense and everything has a yellow tinge.
But how much is it worth? I don’t know. Like I said, Peter Smith has never tried to sell a painting. So maybe I traded Blow to Life for a complete clunker.
But I like it.
And even better yet, at least one other person likes it too. How do I know? Because he wanted to trade a painting for it. In fact, when I return home from Christmas at my girlfriend’s parents’ house, it should be waiting for me.
It’s almost like a gift from Santa.
It seems to me that there is a continuum of attitudes about art: On one extreme it is all about the process and/or beauty that comes from making art. On the other extreme it is all about the product, which inevitably comes along with the painter’s reputation and a price.
Peter Smith stands on the far end of the first extreme. He avoids attention; he does not show his art; and he does not even sign his art. He simply likes making works that he thinks are interesting and hanging them in his house.
‘Akrasia’ means weakness of the will. Smith’s painting is chaotic and yellow. It barely coheres. In fact, except for the figure on the top left, it seems random, as if forces entirely indifferent to painting produced it. Even the color does not in some sense of these words ‘make sense’.
And yet it is visually intriguing and demands attention. My eye vacillates between the turtle-like (in a post-modern way) figure on the top left and the blobbish slightly phallic red figure on the lower right. It then wanders over to the ghoulish looking figure that is emerging from the red blob. And then it returns to the post-modern turtle.
Were I to be potentially foolish and pronounce on the meaning of this painting – potentially foolish, because paintings don’t obviously mean anything; but then again, maybe they do – I would say the following: Akrasia is a glimpse into utter weakness of the will, a condition in which nothing makes sense and everything has a yellow tinge.
But how much is it worth? I don’t know. Like I said, Peter Smith has never tried to sell a painting. So maybe I traded Blow to Life for a complete clunker.
But I like it.
And even better yet, at least one other person likes it too. How do I know? Because he wanted to trade a painting for it. In fact, when I return home from Christmas at my girlfriend’s parents’ house, it should be waiting for me.
It’s almost like a gift from Santa.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
?!?!?!?!
Who would have thought? I made a trade.
I have been posting to the artist section in various cities on Craisglist, trying to drum up interest in the Van Gogh project. And it finally worked.
The painting is called: Akrasia.
The artist’s name is Peter Smith. He lives in Miami and paints in his spare time.
Peter claims that he liked what I did to Ode To Life. The nails, caulk and the board give it a tangible edginess. (Those were his words.) And he liked the title.
We had a lovely chat on the phone. Interestingly enough, Peter, like Boo, does not show his work in public. People have told him he should try to sell his paintings or, barring that, at least have a show. But he finds the pathological need of artists to gain the admiration of the public a revolting display of petty narcissism. (His words again.) So he just hangs his art in his house.
I asked Peter why he was willing to go public with his work by participating in the Van Gogh Project. And he said he liked the idea that his work would eventually be compared to one of Van Gogh’s.
So there you have it. Call it the power of the internet if you like. Call it the power of luck. I prefer to call it the power of the universe.
In my next post I will describe my reaction to Akrasia.
Until then, however, I can’t help but give the universe a little nudge:
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasia.
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasia.
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasiae.
I have been posting to the artist section in various cities on Craisglist, trying to drum up interest in the Van Gogh project. And it finally worked.
The painting is called: Akrasia.
The artist’s name is Peter Smith. He lives in Miami and paints in his spare time.
Peter claims that he liked what I did to Ode To Life. The nails, caulk and the board give it a tangible edginess. (Those were his words.) And he liked the title.
We had a lovely chat on the phone. Interestingly enough, Peter, like Boo, does not show his work in public. People have told him he should try to sell his paintings or, barring that, at least have a show. But he finds the pathological need of artists to gain the admiration of the public a revolting display of petty narcissism. (His words again.) So he just hangs his art in his house.
I asked Peter why he was willing to go public with his work by participating in the Van Gogh Project. And he said he liked the idea that his work would eventually be compared to one of Van Gogh’s.
So there you have it. Call it the power of the internet if you like. Call it the power of luck. I prefer to call it the power of the universe.
In my next post I will describe my reaction to Akrasia.
Until then, however, I can’t help but give the universe a little nudge:
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasia.
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasia.
I want someone to trade a painting for Akrasiae.
Monday, November 15, 2010
I Couldn't Help Myself!
I admit -- I became dismayed and disheartened. Jean Clee changed her mind. She doesn’t want to trade for Ode to Life. And not a single other person has shown any interest.
Call it impatience. Call it desperation. Call it a lesson in not doing drugs.
But I decided to modify Ode to Life.
I’ve been doing some home repair and so had nails, paint and caulk lying around my basement. Over the weekend, I put those to artistic use. I took Ode To Life off its frame, nailed it to a board, dipped nails into paint and nailed them onto the painting, and then put caulk and acrylic in various places.
The result is what you see above. I figure it needs a new name. So I’m calling it ‘Blow To Life’.
I was initially appalled at what I had done and so drank a whole bunch of wine to ease my mind. The next morning, however, I woke up and, despite a persistent hangover, came to like the new painting. Indeed, I started feeling downright pleased with myself. But then, as I was walking to Ace Hardware to get some more nails and a pair of rubber gloves, I ran into Herb Jackson.
Herb is an art professor here and is a deservedly well-known artist. His art, in my opinion, is absolutely fantastic. I feel very lucky that I run into him every so often around campus. We had a lovely conversation during which he told me about the change in technique from the impressionists to Van Gogh. As we talked, however, I told him that I might modify the painting I had. That was a lie -- I had already done it but was still feeling a little bashful about what I had done and so couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. He told me that I should be careful because it is illegal to deface another artist’s work. After all, I don’t own the copyright.
Fuck! Fuck, fuck and another fuck.
What was I going to do? Had I done something illegal? Or worse yet, had I done something stupid? Have I doomed the Van Gogh Project?
Herb and I finished our conversation, we shook hands, and I worried about these question all the way to the Ace store. As I was perusing boxes of nails, though, an answer appeared to me: I decided that the only way forward was to trust in the power of art. I decided that I would take a poll.
If anyone thinks that I have defaced Ode To Life, please write ‘Boo’ in the comments section of this blog. By saying ‘Boo’, you will at one and the same time express allegiance to the artist who painted Ode To Life and express your dissatisfaction with my addition to it. All those who don’t comment at all will be interpreted as thinking that I have at the very least not worsened Ode To Life and so can’t be accused of defacing it (and hence of not doing anything illegal). On the other hand, if anyone particularly likes the changes, feel free to write ‘Yay!’
And of course, if anyone wants to trade for Blow To Life, let me know.
Call it impatience. Call it desperation. Call it a lesson in not doing drugs.
But I decided to modify Ode to Life.
I’ve been doing some home repair and so had nails, paint and caulk lying around my basement. Over the weekend, I put those to artistic use. I took Ode To Life off its frame, nailed it to a board, dipped nails into paint and nailed them onto the painting, and then put caulk and acrylic in various places.
The result is what you see above. I figure it needs a new name. So I’m calling it ‘Blow To Life’.
I was initially appalled at what I had done and so drank a whole bunch of wine to ease my mind. The next morning, however, I woke up and, despite a persistent hangover, came to like the new painting. Indeed, I started feeling downright pleased with myself. But then, as I was walking to Ace Hardware to get some more nails and a pair of rubber gloves, I ran into Herb Jackson.
Herb is an art professor here and is a deservedly well-known artist. His art, in my opinion, is absolutely fantastic. I feel very lucky that I run into him every so often around campus. We had a lovely conversation during which he told me about the change in technique from the impressionists to Van Gogh. As we talked, however, I told him that I might modify the painting I had. That was a lie -- I had already done it but was still feeling a little bashful about what I had done and so couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. He told me that I should be careful because it is illegal to deface another artist’s work. After all, I don’t own the copyright.
Fuck! Fuck, fuck and another fuck.
What was I going to do? Had I done something illegal? Or worse yet, had I done something stupid? Have I doomed the Van Gogh Project?
Herb and I finished our conversation, we shook hands, and I worried about these question all the way to the Ace store. As I was perusing boxes of nails, though, an answer appeared to me: I decided that the only way forward was to trust in the power of art. I decided that I would take a poll.
If anyone thinks that I have defaced Ode To Life, please write ‘Boo’ in the comments section of this blog. By saying ‘Boo’, you will at one and the same time express allegiance to the artist who painted Ode To Life and express your dissatisfaction with my addition to it. All those who don’t comment at all will be interpreted as thinking that I have at the very least not worsened Ode To Life and so can’t be accused of defacing it (and hence of not doing anything illegal). On the other hand, if anyone particularly likes the changes, feel free to write ‘Yay!’
And of course, if anyone wants to trade for Blow To Life, let me know.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Sarah's Thesis
Damn I have awesome students!
Here is another message I received from a former student of mine, Sarah Adams.
Anyway, I’ve been reading your blog about Van Gogh (nice taste in art by the way!), and I wanted to add some support to Kent’s thesis.
I think that part of the value of the paperclip is how I obtain it. I contend that the method of obtaining an object adds to its value (even if the method you use to obtain it is irrational). If you had given Dominic’s Face with Line Through It to a reputable art dealer, he probably would have thrown it in the trash and laughed at you. But maybe one day, he’ll receive it and think: “this is the drawing that started the Van Gogh project, and that makes it really valuable to me.”
So here’s my thesis: participating in a trade like the kind outlined in your blog and in the story of the red paperclip increases the intrinsic value of an object.
And I’ll support it with a little history of Van Gogh. Did you know Paul Gauguin lived with him in Arles at one point (before he moved to Tahiti)? Apparently in December of 1888, Van Gogh confronted Gauguin with a razor blade because he was afraid Gauguin would leave him. Van Gogh fled in panic after this confrontation, and that was when he cut off a piece of his ear and gave it to a prostitute to keep carefully. Gauguin moved to Tahiti and never saw him again, and Van Gogh died in January of 1889. Some doctors have even speculated that the strange perspective and angles in his painting of the “Bedroom in Arles” are the result of lead poisoning, and that Van Gogh actually saw the world in those strange angles. Lead poisoning could have also caused the rings around the stars in “Starry Night.”
Van Gogh’s “Portrait of Dr. Gachet” sold for $139 million in 1990. Who wouldn’t want to own a painting by a man who tried to kill his friend, ended up cutting off his own ear, and was very probably suffering from lead poisoning? Even if the painting was only halfway decent (and Van Gogh was clearly quite a talented artist), think of all the stories you could tell about its history!
Sarah
Just to emphasize Sarah’s thesis, here it is again:
Sarah’s Thesis: Participating in a trade like the kind outlined in this blog and in the story of the red paperclip guy increases the intrinsic value of an object.
For self-interested reasons I really like this thesis.
But of course it is one thing for me to like Sarah’s Thesis and another for it to be true. But is it? In my next blog post, I will argue that its truth depends on a particularly difficult topic: the nature of value.
Until next time, however, if anyone wants to (perhaps) increase the value of a piece of art you own, let me know – I’ll trade you for Ode to Life.
Here is another message I received from a former student of mine, Sarah Adams.
Anyway, I’ve been reading your blog about Van Gogh (nice taste in art by the way!), and I wanted to add some support to Kent’s thesis.
I think that part of the value of the paperclip is how I obtain it. I contend that the method of obtaining an object adds to its value (even if the method you use to obtain it is irrational). If you had given Dominic’s Face with Line Through It to a reputable art dealer, he probably would have thrown it in the trash and laughed at you. But maybe one day, he’ll receive it and think: “this is the drawing that started the Van Gogh project, and that makes it really valuable to me.”
So here’s my thesis: participating in a trade like the kind outlined in your blog and in the story of the red paperclip increases the intrinsic value of an object.
And I’ll support it with a little history of Van Gogh. Did you know Paul Gauguin lived with him in Arles at one point (before he moved to Tahiti)? Apparently in December of 1888, Van Gogh confronted Gauguin with a razor blade because he was afraid Gauguin would leave him. Van Gogh fled in panic after this confrontation, and that was when he cut off a piece of his ear and gave it to a prostitute to keep carefully. Gauguin moved to Tahiti and never saw him again, and Van Gogh died in January of 1889. Some doctors have even speculated that the strange perspective and angles in his painting of the “Bedroom in Arles” are the result of lead poisoning, and that Van Gogh actually saw the world in those strange angles. Lead poisoning could have also caused the rings around the stars in “Starry Night.”
Van Gogh’s “Portrait of Dr. Gachet” sold for $139 million in 1990. Who wouldn’t want to own a painting by a man who tried to kill his friend, ended up cutting off his own ear, and was very probably suffering from lead poisoning? Even if the painting was only halfway decent (and Van Gogh was clearly quite a talented artist), think of all the stories you could tell about its history!
Sarah
Just to emphasize Sarah’s thesis, here it is again:
Sarah’s Thesis: Participating in a trade like the kind outlined in this blog and in the story of the red paperclip guy increases the intrinsic value of an object.
For self-interested reasons I really like this thesis.
But of course it is one thing for me to like Sarah’s Thesis and another for it to be true. But is it? In my next blog post, I will argue that its truth depends on a particularly difficult topic: the nature of value.
Until next time, however, if anyone wants to (perhaps) increase the value of a piece of art you own, let me know – I’ll trade you for Ode to Life.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Kent's Thesis Revisited
According to Kent's thesis, the process of trading up need not involve irrationality. Why? Because people can place different values on items. Hence, when two people trade, even though one person is in some sense getting the better deal, they both end up with something that they prefer. Hence, both have acted rationally.
Consider an example. I have a paperclip and you have a pen. I really want a pen but have no use for a paperclip; you really want a paperclip and have no use for a pen. We somehow meet, both realize the other’s position, and so decide to trade.
When we trade, we both end up with something we value. Because you really value a paperclip and not a pen, you end up making a rational trade – after all, why not give up something that you don’t want for something that you do? And because I prefer a pen to a paperclip, I act rationally too.
Now, in a bartering system, this sort of process can and does happen. Indeed, in a bartering system, something like this almost inevitably happens. So if we were all forced to barter for our goods, it would be possible for someone to trade up from a paperclip to a house without any sort of irrationality.
So there is at least one circumstance -- if we must barter for our goods -- that validates Kent's thesis.
But of course we don't barter for our goods. Instead, we use money; and this changes things. Although you might prefer a paperclip to a red pen, you presumably would prefer two paperclips to one. And given that you have a pen, you could get two, and indeed perhaps twenty, paperclips by selling your pen and then using that money to buy paperclips.
So if we have a monetary system, it looks like trading a pen for a paperclip involves irrationality. After all, why get only one paperclip for your pen when you could get twenty?
There is, however, a complicating factor: transaction costs. Using money involves a certain cost.
To see this, suppose that we are sitting outside on a bench having a pleasant chat and so could easily make a trade. Suppose further that it would be quite a hassle for you to find someone who is willing to buy your pen and then find someone else who could sell you twenty paperclips. In such a situation, the transaction costs involved in using money may be greater than the difference in value between the pen and the paperclip.
In such a case it may be rational for you to forego the additional nineteen paperclips. If the time, effort and other additional costs involved in using money for the transaction were not worth nineteen paperclips, then it would be rational for you to make the trade.
In general, if the transaction costs are greater than the difference in value between two items, it can be rational for someone to make a trade even though he is trading for something that is worth less money than what he currently possesses.
So there is a second circumstance that validates Kent's thesis. If for every trade, the transaction costs were greater than the difference in value between the items traded, then someone could trade up from a paperclip to a house without there being any irrationality involved.
There is yet one final complicating factor: subjective value. Suppose that for some reason you really liked the idea of trading a pen for a paperclip. Suppose, for instance, that you believed that making such a trade would curry the favor of the gods. And suppose further that you value the favor of the gods more than you value the money you would lose were you to trade a pen for a paperclip. In such a situation, it would be rational for you to make a trade.
So we have a third circumstance that validates Kent's thesis: If for every trade, the person trading for the less expensive item placed a subjective value on the trade itself that was greater than the value of the money the he was losing, then someone could trade up from a paperclip to a house without there being any irrationality involved.
But now we must ask: in the cases of the red paperclip guy and the kid who traded from a cell phone to a Porsche, were either of these circumstances actualized?
What about the first circumstance: was it the case that the transaction costs were greater than the difference in value between the items traded?
The answer to this question is almost certainly 'no'. Why? Because the difference in value between a paperclip and a house is around $200,000. So if irrationality were not involved, the total transaction costs involved in the series of fourteen trades would have to equal $200,000. But it is very implausible to suppose that there really are such significant transaction costs. Using money may sometimes be inefficient. But it would be surprising in the extreme were it that inefficient.
What about the second circumstance: Did the people involved collectively place a subjective value on the trades that equaled the difference in value between the first and last items traded?
Here, I must admit, we run into a difficulty: How do we know the values that the people had? Indeed, it is plausible to suppose that in the case of the red paperclip guy some of the people were motivated by the notoriety and fun involved in the process. Hence, it is plausible to suppose that they would place at least some value on the act of trading itself. And perhaps the people involved collectively valued the notoriety and fun as much as they collectively valued $200,000. If so, then the trading process would not have been fueled by irrationality.
But this is where the kid who traded from a cell phone to a Porsche comes into play. In the case of the red paperclip guy people may have been motivated in part by the notoriety and the fun involved in the process. But the kid who traded up from a cell phone to a Porsche was not advertising what he was doing; hence, one could not explain away the irrationality in his series of trades by appealing to notoriety and fun.
So in the case of the kid, it seems clear that irrationality was active. But if it was active in the case of the kid, it was probably active in the case of the red paperclip guy as well.
So even though I think Kent’s thesis is true – it could be the case that no irrationality is involved in the process of trading from a red paperclip to a house– I think that a great deal of irrationality was in fact involved.
Consider an example. I have a paperclip and you have a pen. I really want a pen but have no use for a paperclip; you really want a paperclip and have no use for a pen. We somehow meet, both realize the other’s position, and so decide to trade.
When we trade, we both end up with something we value. Because you really value a paperclip and not a pen, you end up making a rational trade – after all, why not give up something that you don’t want for something that you do? And because I prefer a pen to a paperclip, I act rationally too.
Now, in a bartering system, this sort of process can and does happen. Indeed, in a bartering system, something like this almost inevitably happens. So if we were all forced to barter for our goods, it would be possible for someone to trade up from a paperclip to a house without any sort of irrationality.
So there is at least one circumstance -- if we must barter for our goods -- that validates Kent's thesis.
But of course we don't barter for our goods. Instead, we use money; and this changes things. Although you might prefer a paperclip to a red pen, you presumably would prefer two paperclips to one. And given that you have a pen, you could get two, and indeed perhaps twenty, paperclips by selling your pen and then using that money to buy paperclips.
So if we have a monetary system, it looks like trading a pen for a paperclip involves irrationality. After all, why get only one paperclip for your pen when you could get twenty?
There is, however, a complicating factor: transaction costs. Using money involves a certain cost.
To see this, suppose that we are sitting outside on a bench having a pleasant chat and so could easily make a trade. Suppose further that it would be quite a hassle for you to find someone who is willing to buy your pen and then find someone else who could sell you twenty paperclips. In such a situation, the transaction costs involved in using money may be greater than the difference in value between the pen and the paperclip.
In such a case it may be rational for you to forego the additional nineteen paperclips. If the time, effort and other additional costs involved in using money for the transaction were not worth nineteen paperclips, then it would be rational for you to make the trade.
In general, if the transaction costs are greater than the difference in value between two items, it can be rational for someone to make a trade even though he is trading for something that is worth less money than what he currently possesses.
So there is a second circumstance that validates Kent's thesis. If for every trade, the transaction costs were greater than the difference in value between the items traded, then someone could trade up from a paperclip to a house without there being any irrationality involved.
There is yet one final complicating factor: subjective value. Suppose that for some reason you really liked the idea of trading a pen for a paperclip. Suppose, for instance, that you believed that making such a trade would curry the favor of the gods. And suppose further that you value the favor of the gods more than you value the money you would lose were you to trade a pen for a paperclip. In such a situation, it would be rational for you to make a trade.
So we have a third circumstance that validates Kent's thesis: If for every trade, the person trading for the less expensive item placed a subjective value on the trade itself that was greater than the value of the money the he was losing, then someone could trade up from a paperclip to a house without there being any irrationality involved.
But now we must ask: in the cases of the red paperclip guy and the kid who traded from a cell phone to a Porsche, were either of these circumstances actualized?
What about the first circumstance: was it the case that the transaction costs were greater than the difference in value between the items traded?
The answer to this question is almost certainly 'no'. Why? Because the difference in value between a paperclip and a house is around $200,000. So if irrationality were not involved, the total transaction costs involved in the series of fourteen trades would have to equal $200,000. But it is very implausible to suppose that there really are such significant transaction costs. Using money may sometimes be inefficient. But it would be surprising in the extreme were it that inefficient.
What about the second circumstance: Did the people involved collectively place a subjective value on the trades that equaled the difference in value between the first and last items traded?
Here, I must admit, we run into a difficulty: How do we know the values that the people had? Indeed, it is plausible to suppose that in the case of the red paperclip guy some of the people were motivated by the notoriety and fun involved in the process. Hence, it is plausible to suppose that they would place at least some value on the act of trading itself. And perhaps the people involved collectively valued the notoriety and fun as much as they collectively valued $200,000. If so, then the trading process would not have been fueled by irrationality.
But this is where the kid who traded from a cell phone to a Porsche comes into play. In the case of the red paperclip guy people may have been motivated in part by the notoriety and the fun involved in the process. But the kid who traded up from a cell phone to a Porsche was not advertising what he was doing; hence, one could not explain away the irrationality in his series of trades by appealing to notoriety and fun.
So in the case of the kid, it seems clear that irrationality was active. But if it was active in the case of the kid, it was probably active in the case of the red paperclip guy as well.
So even though I think Kent’s thesis is true – it could be the case that no irrationality is involved in the process of trading from a red paperclip to a house– I think that a great deal of irrationality was in fact involved.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Kent's Thesis
I must admit – I love my students. I try not to let people know that. But it’s true. How could you not love them when they send you messages like this?
Subject: Van Gogh...
Wait, the apparent jump in value from an initial item to another in 'trading up' does not require irrationality. I feel like it's evidence for a great deal of relativistic weight to valuing, and that it's sort of just another example of supply and demand. For example, being able to trade from a paperclip to a house does not show that people do not act in the most economically rational ways. Rather it shows that at some time a chain of circumstances has existed such that over that span of time a particular paperclip was equal in value to a particular house. This can work in perfectly rational ways. If we attach relativized values to each item through the trade, we can show how each item is truly equal in value, so that no net (relativized) value is lost from beginning to end.
And, it seems that the decision-making processes that resulted in everyone's evaluation of each item could itself involve totally rational concerns and decisions - (i.e., I have a second house I don't need/want, it will take a lot of work and energy to sell it under normal circumstances, I don't want to pay taxes or for upkeep another year, and I want a used car...you have a used car that you don't need, and you don't want to deal with selling it and paying the taxes, you want a house in the country, etc...we are in an interesting position, where the ideal market value for our possessions is quite different from their actual, real-time value. Basically, in trading we both can end up in a better position than we were beforehand. Even though my cool house seems worth more than your dumb old car, when we take in all the real-world costs and benefits at the time (take in more data), we can trade and both trade up). So the incredible thing is just how disparate people's evaluations of various things (concrete or not) can be.
That is from Kent Ford, a former student who is now…hmmm…Kent, what the hell are you doing? Last I heard you were in New Orleans with plans to sail somewhere exotic. Whatever it is, I hope you are using that mind of yours.
I will call the following Kent’s Thesis:
The process of trading up from a red paperclip to a house need not involve any irrationality.
I think Kent is right -- it need not involve irrationality. But I also think that it in fact did. I will try to explain why in my next post.
Until then, let me tell my former students – I know some of you are reading this – if you want to trade a painting for Ode To Life, god damn it, let me know!
Subject: Van Gogh...
Wait, the apparent jump in value from an initial item to another in 'trading up' does not require irrationality. I feel like it's evidence for a great deal of relativistic weight to valuing, and that it's sort of just another example of supply and demand. For example, being able to trade from a paperclip to a house does not show that people do not act in the most economically rational ways. Rather it shows that at some time a chain of circumstances has existed such that over that span of time a particular paperclip was equal in value to a particular house. This can work in perfectly rational ways. If we attach relativized values to each item through the trade, we can show how each item is truly equal in value, so that no net (relativized) value is lost from beginning to end.
And, it seems that the decision-making processes that resulted in everyone's evaluation of each item could itself involve totally rational concerns and decisions - (i.e., I have a second house I don't need/want, it will take a lot of work and energy to sell it under normal circumstances, I don't want to pay taxes or for upkeep another year, and I want a used car...you have a used car that you don't need, and you don't want to deal with selling it and paying the taxes, you want a house in the country, etc...we are in an interesting position, where the ideal market value for our possessions is quite different from their actual, real-time value. Basically, in trading we both can end up in a better position than we were beforehand. Even though my cool house seems worth more than your dumb old car, when we take in all the real-world costs and benefits at the time (take in more data), we can trade and both trade up). So the incredible thing is just how disparate people's evaluations of various things (concrete or not) can be.
That is from Kent Ford, a former student who is now…hmmm…Kent, what the hell are you doing? Last I heard you were in New Orleans with plans to sail somewhere exotic. Whatever it is, I hope you are using that mind of yours.
I will call the following Kent’s Thesis:
The process of trading up from a red paperclip to a house need not involve any irrationality.
I think Kent is right -- it need not involve irrationality. But I also think that it in fact did. I will try to explain why in my next post.
Until then, let me tell my former students – I know some of you are reading this – if you want to trade a painting for Ode To Life, god damn it, let me know!
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