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.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
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!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Hmmmm...
What is it about crazy?
Jean Clee is, I am pretty sure, a bit looped.
I wouldn’t normally say such a thing. I know she will read this. But there it is – she’s a bit looped.
Nonetheless, I’m beginning to like her. A lot.
She traded Boo’s Ode to Life for my Kelly Lambert original. Now she wants to trade another of Boo’s painting for Ode to Life.
Why?
I’m not sure. Why and crazy don’t get along very well. So I don’t know what her motives are. And that makes me a bit nervous.
I know this trading up to a Van Gogh thing is already a bit of a weird venture. So maybe I shouldn’t be too concerned that suddenly the only interest I am getting is from a woman I don’t know who claims to have paintings from an artist no one has heard of. But it is all a bit odd.
With that said, the painting she wants to trade is pretty awesome. Indeed, I would say it is close to a masterpiece.
So should I trade?
I don’t know. I don’t even know if Boo ever existed. For all I know, Jean Clee stole these paintings.
What to do? What to do?
I know! I will ask the universe for help. If the universe hasn’t responded in two weeks, I will trade Jean Clee for another of Boo’s paintings.
Universe:
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
There. I feel much better. And optimistic.
It’s funny how therapeutic it is to ask for what you want.
Jean Clee is, I am pretty sure, a bit looped.
I wouldn’t normally say such a thing. I know she will read this. But there it is – she’s a bit looped.
Nonetheless, I’m beginning to like her. A lot.
She traded Boo’s Ode to Life for my Kelly Lambert original. Now she wants to trade another of Boo’s painting for Ode to Life.
Why?
I’m not sure. Why and crazy don’t get along very well. So I don’t know what her motives are. And that makes me a bit nervous.
I know this trading up to a Van Gogh thing is already a bit of a weird venture. So maybe I shouldn’t be too concerned that suddenly the only interest I am getting is from a woman I don’t know who claims to have paintings from an artist no one has heard of. But it is all a bit odd.
With that said, the painting she wants to trade is pretty awesome. Indeed, I would say it is close to a masterpiece.
So should I trade?
I don’t know. I don’t even know if Boo ever existed. For all I know, Jean Clee stole these paintings.
What to do? What to do?
I know! I will ask the universe for help. If the universe hasn’t responded in two weeks, I will trade Jean Clee for another of Boo’s paintings.
Universe:
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
I want someone besides Jean Clee to trade me for Boo’s Ode to Life.
There. I feel much better. And optimistic.
It’s funny how therapeutic it is to ask for what you want.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Ode To Life
The universe works in mysterious ways. I have made a trade.
The painting is called Ode To Life. I received it from an art collector, Jean Clee, who in her own words ‘travels all over the world looking for neglected works of brilliance.’
The artist, according to Madame Clee, emigrated to the United States from Czechosolovokia in the early 80’s and has recently died of AIDS. Madame Clee purchased all his work prior to his death and has offered to trade me this painting for the Kellie Lambert original.
The artist’s name, believe it or not, is ‘Boo’. Though you might think that someone with the name ‘Boo’ would have made a mark in his lifetime, Boo is apparently totally unknown in the art world.
The painting is the replication of part of a huge painting that appeared on the wall of the New York MOMA. The original was painted by Kara Walker and is called Gone: An Historical Romance of a Civil War as It Occurred b’tween the Dusky Thighs of One Young Negress and her Heart. Walker’s painting is, to be sure, a masterpiece.
So this painting is in some sense utterly post-modern. It is derivative upon a huge painting that was painted for the MOMA.
And yet, despite its post-modernity, indeed perhaps because of it, this painting is rather incredible.
The subject matter is shocking: what looks like a girl giving a blowjob to what looks like a boy who stands with his hands outstretched in a moment of joy.
And the color is striking too. The original is entirely black and white. But this one has shades of blue that both suggest and betray the forgotten innocence of the boy and girl. I am not sure how the artist did it, but the color demands attention.
So both the subject matter and the color transfix the viewer.
It is perhaps for these reasons that Madame Clee told me: Few have the eye to see just how brilliant this painting is. Plagiarism be damned!
So there you have it -- my latest painting. It is from an obscure artist who copied part of a painting that appears in the MOMA; and a self-proclaimed art collector traded it to me for Kellie Lambert’s original.
So did I trade up? Who the fuck knows?
But I couldn’t be more pleased. I love this painting.
If anyone wants to trade for Ode to Life, let me know.
The painting is called Ode To Life. I received it from an art collector, Jean Clee, who in her own words ‘travels all over the world looking for neglected works of brilliance.’
The artist, according to Madame Clee, emigrated to the United States from Czechosolovokia in the early 80’s and has recently died of AIDS. Madame Clee purchased all his work prior to his death and has offered to trade me this painting for the Kellie Lambert original.
The artist’s name, believe it or not, is ‘Boo’. Though you might think that someone with the name ‘Boo’ would have made a mark in his lifetime, Boo is apparently totally unknown in the art world.
The painting is the replication of part of a huge painting that appeared on the wall of the New York MOMA. The original was painted by Kara Walker and is called Gone: An Historical Romance of a Civil War as It Occurred b’tween the Dusky Thighs of One Young Negress and her Heart. Walker’s painting is, to be sure, a masterpiece.
So this painting is in some sense utterly post-modern. It is derivative upon a huge painting that was painted for the MOMA.
And yet, despite its post-modernity, indeed perhaps because of it, this painting is rather incredible.
The subject matter is shocking: what looks like a girl giving a blowjob to what looks like a boy who stands with his hands outstretched in a moment of joy.
And the color is striking too. The original is entirely black and white. But this one has shades of blue that both suggest and betray the forgotten innocence of the boy and girl. I am not sure how the artist did it, but the color demands attention.
So both the subject matter and the color transfix the viewer.
It is perhaps for these reasons that Madame Clee told me: Few have the eye to see just how brilliant this painting is. Plagiarism be damned!
So there you have it -- my latest painting. It is from an obscure artist who copied part of a painting that appears in the MOMA; and a self-proclaimed art collector traded it to me for Kellie Lambert’s original.
So did I trade up? Who the fuck knows?
But I couldn’t be more pleased. I love this painting.
If anyone wants to trade for Ode to Life, let me know.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
To Be (Rational) Or Not To Be (Rational)
I did not expect to be in this position. I’ve had a number of offers to trade. And I haven’t accepted any of them.
I can’t give any particularly rational reason for my refusal to trade. It boils down to the fact that I really like Kellie Lambert’s painting and haven’t been offered a painting that I like better than it.
My current stinginess, however, has made me wonder about rationality.
As I’ve said in previous posts, the whole process of trading up must involve a good deal of irrational behavior. And I’ve speculated that perhaps the predictable irrationality of people is what makes trading up possible.
But I now am wondering whether it would make sense to reintroduce the lottery idea into this scheme. Just as a refresher, I had toyed with the idea of giving anyone who traded with me the right to enter into a lottery for the Van Gogh at half of what the price of a lottery ticket would be worth. People could then either sell their right or enter the lottery at a highly discounter price.
Were there to be a lottery of this sort, half of the irrationality in the trading process would be eliminated. With a lottery in place those who traded with me would collectively lose half the value of Van Gogh. But losing half the value of a Van Gogh is less irrational than losing its full value.
So should I or shouldn’t I try to inject this process with a little more rationality?
I am inclined to think that I shouldn’t. Despite the fact that I am partial to rationality – I have studied way too much Aristotle not to be – a brief look at the world would convince most anyone that irrationality reigns. Consider politics. Repeatedly shouting slogans, it would seem, is far more effective than calm rational deliberation.
Nonetheless, I am open to the potential power of rationality. So I have decided to make a decision based upon my next trade. If the person who trades with me would be willing to trade a significantly better painting if a lottery is involved, then I will go with a lottery. If not, then I won’t.
And since I am so concerned with rationality, I want to take this opportunity to tell the universe:
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
Anyone who wants to trade, let me know.
I can’t give any particularly rational reason for my refusal to trade. It boils down to the fact that I really like Kellie Lambert’s painting and haven’t been offered a painting that I like better than it.
My current stinginess, however, has made me wonder about rationality.
As I’ve said in previous posts, the whole process of trading up must involve a good deal of irrational behavior. And I’ve speculated that perhaps the predictable irrationality of people is what makes trading up possible.
But I now am wondering whether it would make sense to reintroduce the lottery idea into this scheme. Just as a refresher, I had toyed with the idea of giving anyone who traded with me the right to enter into a lottery for the Van Gogh at half of what the price of a lottery ticket would be worth. People could then either sell their right or enter the lottery at a highly discounter price.
Were there to be a lottery of this sort, half of the irrationality in the trading process would be eliminated. With a lottery in place those who traded with me would collectively lose half the value of Van Gogh. But losing half the value of a Van Gogh is less irrational than losing its full value.
So should I or shouldn’t I try to inject this process with a little more rationality?
I am inclined to think that I shouldn’t. Despite the fact that I am partial to rationality – I have studied way too much Aristotle not to be – a brief look at the world would convince most anyone that irrationality reigns. Consider politics. Repeatedly shouting slogans, it would seem, is far more effective than calm rational deliberation.
Nonetheless, I am open to the potential power of rationality. So I have decided to make a decision based upon my next trade. If the person who trades with me would be willing to trade a significantly better painting if a lottery is involved, then I will go with a lottery. If not, then I won’t.
And since I am so concerned with rationality, I want to take this opportunity to tell the universe:
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
I want to trade my original Kellie Lambert for a significantly valuable painting.
Anyone who wants to trade, let me know.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Van Gogh's Prostitutes
It is easy to turn someone into a saint, especially someone as brilliant and tragic as Van Gogh.
In fact, I am guilty of doing just that. When I think about Van Gogh, I can almost see a halo above his head. I form an image of a man who nobly pursued beauty in its purest form, a man with an untainted soul who was too good for this world, a man whose unrivalled artistic sensibilities led him to an act of tragic self-harm.
But was Van Gogh a saint?
That of course is a tricky question. But it is clear from his letters that he engaged in behavior that we typically don’t associate with saints.
After falling in love with two women who did not reciprocate his feelings, Van Gogh ended up living with a low class prostitute named Sien.
The following are three sentences taken from three of Van Gogh’s letters.
Van Gogh’s Prostitutes
And I tell you frankly that in my opinion one must not hesitate to go to a prostitute occasionally if there is one you can trust and feel something for, as there really are many.
I am reading the last part of Les Misérables; the figure of Fantine, a prostitute, made a deep impression on me...
To explain my meaning more clearly, let me begin by saying that even his most beautiful weeping Magdalenes or Mater Dolorosas always simply remind me of the tears of a beautiful prostitute who has caught a venereal disease or some such small misery of human life.
So maybe Van Gogh wasn’t so saintly after all.
But then again, maybe there is nothing un-saintly about frequenting prostitutes. Indeed, some have speculated that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute.
So maybe we are all too Victorian in our moral sensibilities.
The Catholic Church requires a saint to have performed three miracles. But I don’t see why the Catholic Church should have the final word on this matter. I will therefore articulate the following thesis. I will call it the Ho-Ho-Ho thesis.
Ho-Ho-Ho Thesis: Any saint must sleep with a prostitute at least three times.
See, I am doing it again. I can ‘t help but think of Van Gogh as a saint. And I will do just about anything to continue to do so.
In fact, I am guilty of doing just that. When I think about Van Gogh, I can almost see a halo above his head. I form an image of a man who nobly pursued beauty in its purest form, a man with an untainted soul who was too good for this world, a man whose unrivalled artistic sensibilities led him to an act of tragic self-harm.
But was Van Gogh a saint?
That of course is a tricky question. But it is clear from his letters that he engaged in behavior that we typically don’t associate with saints.
After falling in love with two women who did not reciprocate his feelings, Van Gogh ended up living with a low class prostitute named Sien.
The following are three sentences taken from three of Van Gogh’s letters.
Van Gogh’s Prostitutes
And I tell you frankly that in my opinion one must not hesitate to go to a prostitute occasionally if there is one you can trust and feel something for, as there really are many.
I am reading the last part of Les Misérables; the figure of Fantine, a prostitute, made a deep impression on me...
To explain my meaning more clearly, let me begin by saying that even his most beautiful weeping Magdalenes or Mater Dolorosas always simply remind me of the tears of a beautiful prostitute who has caught a venereal disease or some such small misery of human life.
So maybe Van Gogh wasn’t so saintly after all.
But then again, maybe there is nothing un-saintly about frequenting prostitutes. Indeed, some have speculated that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute.
So maybe we are all too Victorian in our moral sensibilities.
The Catholic Church requires a saint to have performed three miracles. But I don’t see why the Catholic Church should have the final word on this matter. I will therefore articulate the following thesis. I will call it the Ho-Ho-Ho thesis.
Ho-Ho-Ho Thesis: Any saint must sleep with a prostitute at least three times.
See, I am doing it again. I can ‘t help but think of Van Gogh as a saint. And I will do just about anything to continue to do so.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Kellie Lambert's Dream
In Kellie Lambert’s Dickinson period, her paintings were a surrealistic and symbolic montage. It is not, however, the surrealism of Dali. No, it is a surrealism that harkens back to Emily Dickinson.
In this painting two birds float in the foreground. One is black and dominant; the other, pink and submissive. I can’t help but suspect that the birds are related. Perhaps they are sisters. The older sister, I think, is the bolder darker one.
Above the birds to the right is a tree house. The tree that holds the tree house descends into a series of logs under which peak out two barely noticeable feet that belong to a little girl. The feet perhaps represent the buried desires that exist in their most innocent form in the tree houses of children.
Above the birds to the left is a pale window. All windows point both outside and inside. The window in this painting would seem to be pointing primarily inside – it is giving us a glimpse of someone’s inner being. Nonetheless, the window makes one feel as if one can see beyond it to the outside. It thus in a peculiar way gives both perspectives.
In the lower left corner sits a black figure. Although it is on the same level as the child’s feet, as a result of the bright color surrounding it the figure visually feels like the lowest part of the painting. Perhaps it represents death, that permanent inhabitant of all our deepest feelings.
There is much more to say about this painting. It has a peculiar geometry. The colors are almost painful. And much, much more.
Come Slowly, Eden! What is Kellie saying? I feel as if she is trying to say something. But then again, perhaps not. Dreams are like that.
It is a remarkable painting.
Anyone who wants to trade, let me know.
In this painting two birds float in the foreground. One is black and dominant; the other, pink and submissive. I can’t help but suspect that the birds are related. Perhaps they are sisters. The older sister, I think, is the bolder darker one.
Above the birds to the right is a tree house. The tree that holds the tree house descends into a series of logs under which peak out two barely noticeable feet that belong to a little girl. The feet perhaps represent the buried desires that exist in their most innocent form in the tree houses of children.
Above the birds to the left is a pale window. All windows point both outside and inside. The window in this painting would seem to be pointing primarily inside – it is giving us a glimpse of someone’s inner being. Nonetheless, the window makes one feel as if one can see beyond it to the outside. It thus in a peculiar way gives both perspectives.
In the lower left corner sits a black figure. Although it is on the same level as the child’s feet, as a result of the bright color surrounding it the figure visually feels like the lowest part of the painting. Perhaps it represents death, that permanent inhabitant of all our deepest feelings.
There is much more to say about this painting. It has a peculiar geometry. The colors are almost painful. And much, much more.
Come Slowly, Eden! What is Kellie saying? I feel as if she is trying to say something. But then again, perhaps not. Dreams are like that.
It is a remarkable painting.
Anyone who wants to trade, let me know.
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