
"You were wrong for years, right for a moment, losing small, winning big, so vastly more successful than the other way around (actually the other way would be bust)."
-Nassim Nicholas Taleb, Antifragile
“Do not play with guns!” “Do not
point a gun at something you’re not willing to destroy!” These
are common maxims of handling firearms. Simply, easy to comprehend,
yet capable of savings thousands of lives across the world each year
if they were fully heeded.
The injunction is also one that serves
as a proper paragon for acting within an uncertain world. It
depends neither on exact knowledge of either the changes of there
being a round in the chamber nor knowledge of the payoffs involved.
Instead, it relies on the recognition that, even though most events
would may very well have inconsequential results, a single
devastating outcome is possible. Therefore, uncertain about whether
the gun is loaded, we ought to avoid playing with it to avoid this
catastrophic event.
Most orthodox decision theorists would
go about the problem simply by using the statistical device of
expected value. With this perspective, one should play with the gun
if and only if the expected benefits exceed the expected costs, with
the expectation function being the payoff, whether that is the cost
or benefit, multiplied by its chance of happening. This statement can
be simply stated as:
i)
E[B]-E[C]= b.pb-b.pc>0
To get the command not to
play with the gun, one can easily assign a cost of negative infinity
to the costs of dying to provide, under any situation – no matter
how sure we are that the gun is unloaded, to never play with a gun.
From a practical perspective, this is clearly not a sound maneuver
since there are worse things than dying, especially dying from a
gun-shot wound. One can lose everything, have everyone one loves
executed and then be hung, drawn and quartered. That is surely worse
than being killed by the gun. Even killing a loved one instead of
dying oneself from the action may very well be a worse outcome.
However, since we have assigned the
payoff to dying from the gun as negative infinity, we are unable to
make any outcome worse within the model; ergo, dying as a result from
playing with the gun is not infinitely negative. It is some other
number.
I’m confident most orthodox decision theorists would here
make that cost low enough so as to overwhelm the expected payoff of
playing with the gun, and so yield the reasonable answer prima
facie not to play with the gun. This may be something fully in
line with how most philosophers do decision theory, but there is an
ad-hoc aspect to that solution that does not settle well with
me.
After all, a theory that can explain
everything explains nothing. If we go about fine tuning the
parameters of (i) in any way necessary to get the desired outcome,
then we aren’t actually saying that much. In addition, these
concerns are heightened by the use of equations like (i) to not only
explain normative behavior, but positive behavior in the world. (I)
can just easily say that a person’s actions reflect that they
estimated the expected benefits of her actions to be more than the
expected costs of her actions as they can say that a person ought
to act only if she expects the expected benefits to overwhelm the
expected costs. So which one is it?
In addition, most decision theorists
are cheating here. They're cheating because they're basing their
method for how they go about fine tuning the parameters of (I) to get
what they believe ex ante to
be the proper course of action. That's neither a helpful nor an
insightful theory; to the contrary, it is simply at best a post-hoc
rationalization, and
intellectual masturbation at worst. The decision theorist already
knows, without needing the framework of (i), not to play with the
gun, but what leads to that decision. I would wager it is because he
understands that playing with the gun involves small rewards, the fun
of playing with the gun, at the risk of horrific injury.
This
judgment is much more in line with the rule-based heuristic above of
avoiding situations with low payoffs and high rewards. Rather than
being concerned about the expected benefit of playing with the gun,
the decision theorist, without even realizing it, prima
facie looks at the distribution
of the payoffs involved and realizes that there in a very undesirable
outcome within the distribution that ought to guide his concern.
Then, rather than basing his statement for why not to play with the
gun based on that distribution of payoffs, he then goes, and uses a
calculated average in order to justify it. The decision theorist is
thus cheating
Within a world of uncertainty, such as
when we simply do not know if the gun is loaded and any guess as to
the probability is simply making a figure up, we should act so as to
put ourselves in the position to gain from the uncertainty. It’s
not because we know that the expected payoff to playing with the gun
is negative that we ought to play with the gun. Instead, it is that,
even though we do not know the odds of the gun being loaded, we
recognize a situation in which there are there are drastically
undesirable outcomes that may be smothered away by the expecations
functions of (i).
Knowing that all it takes for one of
those violent outcomes to be realized is a single te with that
intuition in mind we avoid the gun. No calculations of costs and
benefits necessary, just recognition of the distribution of the
payoffs, which we can infer from a rather elementary familiarity with
firearms and human anatomy. Even if the expected payoff of playing
with the gun were sufficiently high that expected-value theory would
recommend playing with it (imagine a billionaire offering millions
for someone to play), we know that the expected value hides a
catastrophe (and its all fun and millions until someone gets shot in
the head). Being right even a hundred times when playing with a gun
and then being wrong on the next is much, much worse than not playing
at all.
Recognizing the involved distribution
of payoffs allows us to act so as to avoid those catastrophes. We
don’t understand the world, it is simply opaque to us, and to
prosper in this environment, we should act so as to benefit from that
uncertainty. To state that we should never play with guns because
even a positive expected value from the act hides a catastrophe is to
act so as to take advantage of the uncertainty to aid our survival.
It doesn’t matter that we think we know the odds of the gun being
unloaded because we may be wrong, and so rather than that “may be
wrong” perhaps emerging from the dark cloud of uncertainty, like
one of Pacific Rim's kaiju,
to destroy us, we use that uncertainty to guide us along a better
course of action.
Liberty, and Prudence in Policy: The Case of Marijuana
In a post responding to the severe criticism David Brooks has received on his own unfortunate column arguing against the legalization of marijuana, T.N., a blogger at The Economist’s “Democracy in America” blog, comes to his defense in “Marijuana Legalisation: Sort of In Defense of David Brooks.” There he argues that while Brooks’ point certainly could have been better argued, that Brooks certainly had a point which is often neglected in the tide of increasing support for legalization.
The most noteworthy part about the blog post, though, does not have to do with the topic of cannabis, or David Brooks. It is that T.N.’s post is paradigmatic of a certain mentality about policy. That mentality is the belief that policy is about a matter of utilitarian calculus. A good piece of legislation is therefore one that encourages the general welfare while a bad piece of legislation, vice versa, is one that diminishes the general welfare. T.N. advocates for such an understanding when in writing:
According to this view, a politician’s craft is a matter of prudence - defined by Aristotle as being “about human concerns, about things open to deliberation” (Nicomachean Ethics 1141b). When legalizing marijuana, then, politicians have to weigh the benefits of its legalization compared to those of its prohibition, and if those benefits outweigh the costs, then the legislation should be passed.
Completely lacking from T.N.’s account of legislation, though, is any voice for the presumption of liberty. The idea that the prudential decision ought to, by principle, be left to the person who shall serve to reap the decision’s fruit is not be to found there. Nowhere in T.N.’s appraisal of legalization does the columnist seem to consider the idea that people ought to be free to destroy themselves. Instead, politicians stand above their citizens, to ensure their happiness. When the columnist addresses the choices of individuals, it is only with respect to either minimizing or maximizing their utility: “Moreover, lots of people smoke marijuana because they like it; the drug therefore has a ‘utility function’ that ought to be factored in to any cost/benefit analysis.”
That is a dim view of human free will. A cost/benefit analysis from on high simply looking at people as utility maximizers fails to capture the full tapestry of human motivations across society, and it fails to consider the multiplicity of motivations for why people would make their own prudential choices. The presumption of liberty, though, acknowledges that, and in acknowledging it, respects human beings as free to their own prudence lest a grave concern overwhelm that presumption.
The presumption of liberty alone, not the politician’s prudence, should be the reason for the legalization of cannabis. It is not that marijuana does no more harm than alcohol, or that marijuana might even have positive effects across societies, but that people should be given the respect that they deserve, and that no one should claim to make the prudential decision to partake in drugs for them. There is simply no scope for a superior in politics to interfere with that decision, and so there is no reason why politicians need to deliberate about it. It simply should not be their decision to make.
Humanity is, at heart, a species with a deep impulse towards self-destruction, and if someone desires it, he will be able to achieve it through one means or another. Talk about the political prudence of legalizing marijuana does nothing to address that. Prudence is a matter of proper deliberation, but there is no strong reason for why the choice of whether to smoke marijuana should not be made by politicians, especially when it comes to the well being of individuals.
The fact shall always remain that if people are to be free to choose virtue, they must be free to choose vice. Whether it is the case of the problem of evil or the legalization of drugs, people are free agents whom need to be respected as free agents. Ensuring the integrity of what Adam Smith called “the obvious and simple system of natural liberty” which liberals should be the primary concern of politicians, matters of prudential legislation only following after that. As far as the legalization of marijuana, it would be one small way forward towards ensuring the existence of that system of liberty. It isn’t for no reason that The Economist named Uruguay its country of 2013 for enacting such an “obviously sensible” change.
Posted by Harrison Searles on 01/06/2014 at 11:00 AM in Aristotle, Choice, Commentary, Law, Neither Angel nor Devil, Political Philosophy, Presumption of Liberty | Permalink | Comments (0)
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