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Welcome to Mogadishu

By DeusExMacintosh

British Embassy re-opens in Somalia

Foreign Secretary William Hague has opened a new British embassy in Mogadishu – the first time the UK has had one in Somalia since 1991.

The UK is the first European Union country to reopen an embassy in the country since the Federal Government of Somalia was established last year.

Mr Hague said Somalia had been through a “dramatic shift”, but continues to face “huge challenges”.

The prime minister will host a Somalia Conference in London on 7 May.

The conference, which will be co-hosted by Somali President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud, aims to provide co-ordinated international support for the new government as it rebuilds the country after two decades of conflict…

He said the opening of the embassy was “testament” to the strength of the UK/Somalia bilateral relationship.

“We will continue to work closely with the Somalia government on shared priorities, which include tackling conflict, countering terrorism and piracy, providing humanitarian assistance, and promoting UK interests in Somalia,” he added.

Accompanied by the president, the foreign secretary opened the “core office” of the new embassy, which consists of six customised shipping containers at Mogadishu International Airport, with a short ceremony and flag-raising.

- BBC News

This is also the weekend chit-chat thread.

Against free markets

By Lorenzo

The term that is. There seem to be few usages that are a greater barrier to clear thought and debate than free markets. Whether used as a term of sneering abuse to create straw-person arguments or as a slogan of the right and proper, it is ready-made to close minds and abstract away from the issues that do matter; such as the complex questions about the proper lines between private action and public rules.

Liberty and social order

The term economic freedom is distinctly preferable, since it is open to quantification and measurement–with the normal caveats and difficulties than pertain to the compilation of any index. It also connects freedom to constraints on people–either as individuals or associations–rather than to collections of transactions dealing with a particular good or service.

GM_-_Countries_by_Economic_Freedom_Index

Not that freedom can be equated with lack of constraints on action. On the contrary, security of life, person and property is very much part of any freedom worth the name. Liberty is a value embedded in social order, not independent of it. It is entirely sensible that the most widely used index of economic freedom has security of property as one of its main criteria.

Even more fundamentally, morality is like law in that it constrains and empowers; by limiting our actions towards each other through constraints against and requirements to, morality greatly expands what we can do. If we were amoral rational egoists, we could not build functioning societies. Our ancestors’ development of a moral sense was basic to the rise of human societies.[i] A key building block of our ancestors’ moral sense was the notion of ownership, whose fundamental element is that other people acknowledge something as yours; a cognitive feature that seems to be lacking among other primates.[ii]

hostile acquisition

hostile acquisition

Libertarians often over-estimate how much morality can do in the absence of corruption-through-power while also underestimating the importance of non-state forms of power. Not to mention that even economic freedom has no simple connection to the size of government. As Justice Clarence Thomas pointed out to the Cato Institute when he was Chair of the Equal Opportunity Commission, the notion that American freedoms had been eroding since the American Revolution was not how things seemed to black folk. Nor, for that matter, to women, Jews, Catholics, queer folk … David Boaz says it well:

Has there ever been a golden age of liberty? No, and there never will be. There will always be people who want to live their lives in peace, and there will always be people who want to exploit them or impose their own ideas on others.

Conversely, the classic error of progressivists is to treat regulation and political action as some exogenous feature sitting over the top of the realm of private action. Thereby treating regulation and political action as if its public role and intent shields it from the corrupting effect of private action and motive. Or, as economist Arnold Kling puts it:

(non-classical) liberals and libertarians see the problem of “special interests” differently. Liberals view special interests as exogenous to the policy process. You have to overcome special interests to create good policy. Libertarians see special interests as endogenous. Policy is what creates them.

Putting that point another way:

money in politics are a result of the stakes that we have put on the table — the more power we give to government to reallocate wealth, the more money will be spent to have such decisions made in one’s favor.

Rules versus discretion

One of the real questions in public policy is rules versus discretion. I am generally very much against regulatory discretion [of people's property and labour]. Not only does it encourage corruption–corruption is the market for regulatory discretion, the more regulatory discretion there is, the higher the level of corruption is likely to be–regulatory discretion will also more or less inevitably favour the wealthy, the well-connected and the articulate, for they have greater ability to gain the favourable attention of regulators. While the evidence is that money (in the form of political donations) has a weak effect on the outcome of elections, even without trying to disentangle whether money follows popularity or vice versa, money most definitely buys access to officials–hence the tendency of highly regulated industries to donate generously to both sides of politics.

corruption_1244635

Discretionary regulation also elevates the prejudices and preconceptions of regulators where they typically do not have to bear the cost of said prejudices and preconceptions. For example, modern Australian house and building design seems to suffer significant narrowing because the familiar (to regulators) is much easier to get regulatory approval for. (I was memorably regaled by the owner of a herb farm-and-store who was still very bitter at the time and expense it took him to get regulatory approval to build his store whose construction was based on centuries of experience–but not in Australia.)

Discretionary regulation can also generate serious time inconsistency problems. Such as discouraging use of emergency measures, because that will signal how bad things are; or encouraging blanket actions so as to “smother” a crisis, thereby undermining incentives for prudent behaviour. (The former CEO of Wells Fargo is still very angry at being forced to accept TARP money his bank did not need because it had not been imprudent.)

More generally, discretionary regulation raises transaction costs, and usually, as discussed above, in invidious ways. It grants control over attributes of property to people who typically do not bear the costs and consequences of exercising said control. Worse, it is an excellent avenue for privileging some groups over others. The social mercantilism which is the curse of Latin America is directly based on the Iberian model of official discretions. Regulatory discretion also operates invidiously in much of the Middle East (pdf).

Talking about “free markets”, or even just levels of “regulation”, ignores the fundamental differences involved in regulating by rules as distinct from regulating via official discretions. If there was one change I could make to the Australian Constitution, it would be to have an equivalent provision as Article 14 of the Federal German Constitution elevating rules over (pdf) official discretions.

Rules and incentives

What specifically prompted this post was (re)reading this excellent short history of banking (pdf). It makes clear how much the history of banking over the last two centuries has been a history of regulation; particularly history of governance and liability rules. Plus matters such as the tax system favouring debt over equity. Not that it is surprising that the tax system should favour debt over equity–far more voters are in the market for debt than for equity.

The consequence of waves of regulatory change has been to create institutions “too big to fail”, encouraged to go for volatility and debt where benefits were reaped by short-term investors and bank management, risks were dumped on long-term investors and taxpayers while alleged crisis-protections again and again fell prey to time-inconsistency problems.

It is not any sort of simple story about either the “failure” of “free markets” or their absence. Each regulatory change was prompted by previous experience before succumbing to changes in circumstances and/or unintended consequences. Nor does regulation have any sort of simple relationship to transaction costs. Discretionary regulation may raise transaction costs, typically in invidious ways, but rules can lower transaction costs.

Yellow Knights

Comfort from clear inheritance rules

For example, much of the pressure for the Latin Church to get involved in marriage came from the landholding-and-inheriting warrior elite of medieval Europe who wanted a standard set of rules about what marriage involved–who could or could not get married, who was or was not a legitimate offspring–and the Church was the only body operating across the myriad of jurisdictions and coverages of custom law that marked medieval Latin Christendom that could provide such commonality. Libertarian suggestions that the state “get out of marriage” ignore the great advantage in having a standard marriage contract or, at least, a standard contractual form. Clear rules about corporate forms and liabilities can also lower transaction costs.

Lowering transaction costs, thereby expanding possible gains from trade, is a worthy goal. But, as we can see, it does not have any simple connection to the “level” of regulation. Nor to whether a market counts as “free” or not.

Another important characteristic of markets are barriers to entry. Regulation can certainly create such barriers, but so can non-state action. Creating effectively a tort of discrimination may make people less free to discriminate but it can wildly expand the social possibilities for others. Can we really say that banning exclusion on the basis of gender, race, religion, sexuality, etc makes markets “less free”? It is true that commerce has generally been kinder to minority groups than politics; but this is also an effect that operates far more strongly in cities than in small communities, where social cartels are much easier to establish and maintain and repressed groups find it harder to reach the critical mass that encourages targeted commercial responses.

Racial zoning of Birmingham, Alabama, 1926

Racial zoning of Birmingham, Alabama, 1926

Complexities

Markets are always based on implicit or explicit rules. These rules may be customary, market-generated or imposed by state or non-state action. Imposed action can take the form of rules or discretion. The rules may raise or lower transaction costs. They may create, abolish, lower or raise barriers to entry. They may protect, restrict or undermine property rights. Restrictions on property rights may lower or increase the value of the property. Much of the original pressure for zoning was to protect the value of houses by limiting permitted (pdf) local activities (or permitted local residents [pdf]).

The term free markets is a highly inadequate way of parsing these complexities Which, of course, may be much of its appeal. Barriers to thought can be great support for the simplicities of sloganeering.

 


[i] Application of experimental economics and game theory suggests strongly that, in a situation of good information about each other (such as in a foraging band), trustworthy cooperation, not rational egoism, is the strategy favoured by evolutionary pressure (pdf).

[ii] There are some signs of a moral sense in other primates and some animals; it appears to be strikingly more highly developed in homo sapiens.

And yes, I do have a dog in this fight ;)

By skepticlawyer

podbor88_23It has long been my view that Gerard Henderson and Michael Danby and Colin Rubinstein do not actually accept the logic behind having freedom of speech. Instead, they have jumped on the fashionable bandwagon that seeks to control how one’s ‘group’ is portrayed, hence their support for legislative piffle like s 18 (c) of the RDA.

Here’s a tip, gentlemen: outside the very limited protection provided by the tort/delict of defamation, attempts to control how others represent you is not just a dead end, it’s a pointless dead-end, much like all those university cafeterias and Oxbridge colleges that refuse to sell the Sun on account of page 3 girls.

Students don’t read the Sun anyway, you see. The cafe or student shop or college is making an utterly empty gesture.

Section 18 (c) will not stop people disliking minority x. It will just make them inclined to dislike minority x in private, and probably with greater intensity. Banning porn will not stop people seeking it out, also with even greater intensity. Etc.

Laws regulating representation just don’t work. Seriously, activists who think they can use the law to make others think well of [insert oppressed group here] are absolutely kidding themselves. Because belting your opponents over the head with a statute-book will not make them think well of you. In fact, they may suspect you’re a control freak.

Oh yeah, and equating support for freedom of speech with support for terrorism is quite possibly the lowest, cheapest stunt you can pull, and Catallaxy’s Sinclair Davidson is entirely correct to call you on it:

It is simply astonishing that Henderson should single out for special criticism the two men who did a lot – a very, very lot – of the heavy lifting in the free speech campaign that the IPA, under John Roskam’s excellent leadership, ran against Conroy’s obscene media laws. We are all in their debt, yet Henderson does the smear. In his op-ed he is attempting to link concern for civil liberties to support for terrorism.

[...]

There are always a few malcontents who engage in acts of extreme violence. It doesn’t matter if they profess to be Muslim or Marxist or Anarchist or Patriots or whatever. Their acts of terror condemn them whatever their motive. Anyone who says different is a moral dwarf.

Liberal societies maximise the freedoms of their citizens. Illiberal societies do not and usually contrive excuses to limit those freedoms. Being “at war” is a common excuse to limit freedom.

Linking a domestic campaign to retain free speech rights and privacy against the State to a act of terrorism on the other side of the world is not just a long bow, it is incredibly grubby.

I am also somewhat surprised by the allies Henderson has enlisted. Michael Danby – a member of the ALP who would have voted for Conroy’s anti-free speech legislation and Colin Rubenstein – a supporter of s18(c). Shame on you both. Unsurprising that those two would criticise Chris Berg and Simon Breheny. Danby and Rubenstein lost the free speech debates.

Look, I get why Jewish people and gay people and women and [insert minority/oppressed group here] don’t like being accused of conspiring to take over the planet or being reduced to a headless torso in news photographs or called ‘unnatural’ or whatever, but the point is that as soon as you try to protect groups qua groups you paint yourself into the same intellectual corner as the Cretan chap who told the world ‘all Cretans are liars’. You also start to forget what’s important, and what you can control (ie, the limits of law).

It is possible to have recourse to fact when discussing an individual (this is why defamation exists). It is very, very difficult to have recourse to fact when discussing groups: look at the tangled mess in which evolutionary psychology finds itself because it so often fails to make the point about ‘statistically, our research indicates…’

Whole academic disciplines have foundered on this particular shoal. The law should not aim to be one of them.

And for those who wish to change how they are represented, just keep on doing pointless stuff while abortion rights remain insecure in several Australian states, wingnuts blockade the entrance to a shop run by a well known Jewish chocolatier, and same sex marriage in Australia looks like being about 10 years off thanks to a combination of the Shoppies and Tony Abbott (ie, it doesn’t matter which party occupies the Aztec temple in Canberra).

No-one Is Above the Law

By DeusExMacintosh

US Judge fines self for contempt

A Michigan judge whose smartphone disrupted a hearing in his own courtroom has held himself in contempt and paid $25 for the infraction.

Judge Raymond Voet has a posted policy at Ionia County 64A District Court stating that electronic devices causing a disturbance during court sessions will result in the owner being cited with contempt, the Sentinel-Standard of Ionia and MLive.com reported.

On Friday afternoon, during a prosecutor’s closing argument as part of a jury trial, Voet’s new smartphone began to emit sounds requesting phone voice commands. Voet said he thinks he bumped the phone, and the embarrassment likely left his face red…

Over the years, the judge whose court is about 110 miles northwest of Detroit has taken phones away from police officers, attorneys, witnesses, spectators and friends. During a break in the trial, Voet held himself in contempt, fined himself and paid the fine.

“Judges are humans,” Voet said. “They’re not above the rules. I broke the rule and I have to live by it.”

- Sydney Morning Herald

‘By Heart, not Rote’: some observations on geeks and geekiness

By skepticlawyer

Chrissie Amphlett and the Divinyls provided a decent chunk of the soundtrack to my young life; reports of her early death (aged 53) hit me in the childhood memories, hard, much like the arrest of Rolf Harris, or pictures of Berliners crawling over the remains of the Wall. I have, by saying those things, disclosed my past as a true child of the 80s. I was surprised, then, to find someone my age — and Australian to boot — asking, ‘but who’s Chrissie Amphlett?’

After I’d picked myself up off the floor, I was reminded that it is quite dangerous these days to assume common cultural knowledge, even among educated people. In the past this was not so, at least (adding the inevitable caveat) among educated people. That cultural knowledge took in a great deal of classics (Homer, Virgil, Ovid), the Book of Common Prayer (even for non-Anglicans, as Methodist Margaret Thatcher’s funeral disclosed), the Bible (KJV), a substantial body of literature, at least Mozart and Bach with a generous leavening (at least among Anglophone people) of Handel, a wide knowledge of art and art history. That seems a great deal, but I had all of it (thanks to a combination of background and schooling) by the time I was 14.

More adventurous types (I was one of these) added Russians and Americans; I spent quite a bit of my junior year (standard grade/GCSE/O-Level) reading Russians. I suppose you could say I got the depressing stuff out of the way early. I also watched very little television. This was partly an exigency enforced by circumstances: in much of rural Australia you needed a 90 ft aerial just to get the ABC, and that badly. I recall seeing most of the Tom Baker and Peter Davison Doctors Who, but don’t really remember any of the others. I saw the three Star Wars films on television, a long, long time after their cinema releases. I remember friends collecting Star Wars figurines, and marvelling that Yoda’s cloak was material, not plastic. I never got into Star Trek, perhaps because it was on a commercial station and we were an ABC family.

This means that much of the material that provides the ‘common knowledge’ presumed among ‘geeks’ (and I wish to problematise that word) was not part of my cultural armoury until I left high school. I read Lord of the Rings at university. I read Dune as a pupil barrister. I certainly read some science fiction at high school, but without any loyalty to a particular author: I recall Ursula Le Guin, Robert Heinlein, and Philip K Dick. Of the three, I thought Le Guin by some margin the superior writer: she could turn a sentence like the best of the Modernists and evoke emotion like the Victorians. I found myself counting (and mentally correcting) Heinlein’s grammatical errors.

540745_10151362022231401_890656435_nThis can have amusing consequences, because among many people (including not a few of my friends), the ‘geek’ is often what passes for a person educated in literature and culture. I then turn up and lack entirely the ‘geek’s’ depth of knowledge when it comes to science fiction or fantasy, but get to explain to an audience of skeptics why Dickens’s portrait of the equitable jurisdiction in Bleak House contributed to urgently needed law reform between the years 1873 and 1875. Now, time was when the interminable court case of ‘Jarndyce v Jarndyce’ could be named without either its author or novel attached: no more. The world has changed.

This is why I was greatly amused when, last week, Liberty Fund’s Sarah Skwire (she blogs most famously here) sent me the graphic attached to this post (original location here). It is years since I have seen Star Wars, but I have done Latin translation recently (some last week) — and for £, too — including for the Reason Foundation. This meant that I had to retrieve the joke by means of the Latin, as well as explain to a fellow classicist that I think the full colon between ‘non’ and ‘ego’ is meant to work like a comma, so he’s saying ‘no, I am your father!’ or something to that effect. I then added this caveat:

[Please note, my knowledge of Latin is far more secure than my knowledge of Star Wars. I haven't seen the films since I was a child, and even then only on telly; I am literate and cultured, but not a geek.]

He, like me, approached the image via the Latin, not the popular culture reference.

The problem of equating ‘geek’ with ‘knowledgeable about literature and culture’ is not only that the arts are not a democracy: much popular culture is not, I’m afraid, very good, and what is good is not as a general rule comparable with high culture. Sorry, but there it is (I should note that Sarah cordially disagrees with me on this point).

The other (and more pressing) problem is a complete lack of understanding of what cultural literacy is supposed to achieve.

I was exposed to this problem of critical–if not cultural–illiteracy this week. It involved the author Orson Scott Card, of whom I had heard only faintly. Apparently he wrote a famous book called Ender’s Game, which is generally highly rated among science fiction aficionados. However, in more recent times, Scott Card was commissioned to write a Superman story by the established comics publisher, DC Comics. However, Scott Card is a homophobe, a genuine one: not only is he opposed to same-sex marriage, he believes homosexual activity between consenting adults in private should be criminalised. He is also on the board of the National Organisation for Marriage, a body that has often fought its battles dishonestly (I know this, because I picked apart its amicus brief in my paper for the Reason Foundation).

This disclosure meant I asked my interlocutors if Scott Card’s personal views on gays had caused a drop-off in the quality of his work, to which I received the response that (a) they didn’t know and (b) they weren’t ever going to know, because they now refused to read any of his books, not even the famous Ender’s Game.  I was then told about the campaign to have him removed from his Superman writing role for DC Comics. It would appear that his story may now never see the light of day: it has lost its illustrator (rather essential in the world of comics) and, one suspects, would be subject to a fan boycott if published, such has been the anger. I responded that it was entirely fair for a publisher to make a marketing decision like that: the world of publishing is precarious enough without losing a significant chunk of a given fan base thanks to consumer boycott. And it wouldn’t be the first time an author has alienated his or her readers: lots of people didn’t take to the posthumously published Northanger Abbey back in the day, while Ovid’s Metamorphoses marked a significant departure from his earlier erotic poetry.

Three things fell out of this series of conversations:

1. A large number of geeks do not get that the purpose of creative literature is not to make you feel good about yourself. If you want books that make you feel good about yourself, then ‘self help’ is the genre you’re after.

2. A large number of geeks seem to think that if they disagree with an author’s politics or other beliefs, that means they ought ipso facto to reject the author himself, along with all his works. I always thought conflating an author’s characters’ views with the author’s views was bad enough, but if widely adopted across the culture this more expansive rejection would decimate the Western Canon, let alone popular culture. I should not have to give you a roll call of the misanthropes, misogynists, kooks, racists, homophobes, bigots, and crooks that populate the arts–both canonical and not.

3. A large number of geeks do not get that a publishing company does not decide to pull a given publication because it necessarily agrees with that publication’s critics. It pulls the publication because it is worried about loss of marketshare. Publishing companies are not charities. I know this, I have worked for and with several of them.

I do not know where this idea of literature and the arts as providers of succour comes from, but it fascinates me. Maybe it comes from the common geek experience of being a reader at school, and as a result being treated horribly for having intellectual pursuits. Sympathetic writers and artists are then co-opted into a defence for a wounded individual, and cannot be allowed to stray too far from that individual’s experience of woundedness because they are needed for protection. This is just a guess, though. I don’t know. The inability to grasp how the free market works is commoner: indeed, it’s almost universal among my arts and humanities friends, and common among scientists, even when it comes to those in the throes of engaging a commercial lawyer to protect their IP or build the corporate structure for their start-up.

When one first encounters poetry, one is commonly enjoined to learn it ‘by heart, not rote’: indeed, rote learning has killed not a few of my friends’ enjoyment of literature generally and poetry in particular. I think rote learning is ill-advised as an educational technique, even though I admit it worked well for me as a child. ‘Heart’ has its origins in ‘love’: that is what makes for future generations of readers. However, it is unwise to allow love for a genre and the feelings it evokes to blind one’s critical sensibilities. If you don’t like a book [or film, or painting, or other cultural product] that’s fine, but remember that the author [illustrator, musician, other artist] is under no duty to tailor his work to your sensibilities. Keep a few critical rules of thumb in mind: good writers separate their work from their beliefs (this is what Ayn Rand famously failed to do, and what Tolstoy almost fails to do in the long essays scattered throughout War and Peace; still, both were Russians, and Russians do like to expound their beliefs). Remember that mediocre writers often haul a great deal out of the confessional and spill the result in front of the public: think, for example, of the ‘misery memoirs’ so popular in recent years. Above all, do not form a critical view of an author’s work unless you have read some of that work. More than anything else this bespeaks cultural illiteracy, ignorance, and intolerance. It is redolent of an age where women had to write under male pseudonyms because people would not read ‘silly books written by silly women’.

Oh yes, after exams I’ll be reading Ender’s Game. It’s been mentally added to the pile that sits beside this reader’s bed.

Of fact and fiction

By Lorenzo

Novelist Kerry Greenwood (the author of the Phryne Fisher books, now a successful TV series), has recently published a book on the Somerton Man mystery, Tamam Shud: the Somerton Man Mystery. The book interweaves Kerry’s memories of her late father–a wharfie who loved telling stories–and her memories of Adelaide with the famous mystery of the unidentified man dead of unknown causes found on Somerton Beach in 1948. The tale being one of her father’s stories–odd and memorable because it had no conclusion. The title of the book comes from the torn-out scrap of The Rubayiat of Omar Khayam that was found in a secret pocket in the dead man’s suit. It is not really “true crime” because it is not clear there was a crime; it may have been murder, but it could also have been suicide, or natural causes. (Declaration of interest: I did some of the research for the book.)

A review of the book in the Sydney Review of Books notes with some emphasis Kerry’s comfort with her working class origins and bemoans an allegedly missed opportunity to challenge the distinction between fact and fiction:

Someone in love with their form can see infinite potential within it, and Greenwood’s storytelling is impeccable, engaging, great fun. But someone in love with their form can also miss the potential that lies in breaking away from it, shifting familiar parameters to suit the demands of a different kind of story. Greenwood’s curiosity is so infectious, her stories so interesting, and the mystery of Somerton Man so fascinating, that this flaw can easily slip past us. And yet Tamam Shud strikes me as a missed opportunity to challenge the separation of fiction and non-fiction, and bring them together in some kind of whole. It’s almost as if the book is haunted by Adelaide’s psychic dualities.

Actually, the reviewer writes ‘fiction and non-fiction’, which lacks the blunt directness of ‘fact and fiction’. The latter phrasing can be expected to resonate with someone who is legal aid solicitor operating in magistrate courts, where separating fact from fiction is rather the point of the exercise. Facts about the law, facts about the case.

4398914-3x4-700x933

In fact, an unsolved mystery such as that of Somerton Man rather starkly reveals the distinction. Fact turns on what is known, fiction has no such limitation. For it is a work of creation, constrained in what can be known about the characters and their motives only by the decisions of the writer.

Fiction has other limitations. To be successful, it has to generate what J. R. R. Tolkien called (in On Fairy Storiessecondary belief. We have to be transported into the imagined world and held there.

The various forms of fiction also impose particular limitations. As Kerry Greenwood points out, a crime novelist has expectations to fulfil:

No coincidences are allowed in fiction … It is because readers of crime fiction rightly demand three things – a crime, a detective and a solution. Crime fiction is a puzzle and the author must play fair.

But fiction does not have the limitation of lack of knowledge–at least not about the characters, their action and purposes–because fiction is an act of creation. Where knowledge cannot take us, imagination can still venture. But then it is not fact, but fiction or speculation.

It is not that there was no complete story about Somerton Man. As the fictional crime novelist Castle observes in the pilot episode of the TV series of the same name in an exchange with detective Kate Beckett:

Richard Castle: I’m here for the story.

Kate Beckett: The story?

Richard Castle: Why those people? Why those murders?

Kate Beckett: Sometimes, there is no story. Sometimes, the guy is just a psychopath.

Richard Castle: [scoffs] There’s always a story, always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. Take you for example. Under normal circumstances, you should not be here. Most smart good looking women become lawyers, not cops. And yet here you are. Why?

Kate Beckett: I don’t know, Rick. You’re the novelist. You tell me.

Richard Castle: Well, you’re not bridge-and-tunnel. No trace of the boroughs when you talk. So that means Manhattan. That means money. You went to college, probably a pretty good one. You had options. Yeah, you had a lot of options, more socailly acceptable options. But you still chose this. That tells me, something happened. Not to you. No, you’re wounded, but you’re not that wounded. No, it was someone you care about, it was someone you loved. And you probably could have lived with that but the person responsible was never caught.

Richard Castle: [silence]

Richard Castle: And that Detective Beckett, is why you are here.

Kate Beckett: Cute trick. But don’t think you know me.

Richard Castle: The point is there’s always a story. You just have to find it.

Kate Beckett: [opens up letter and eyes grow wide] I think I just did.

[shows Castle letter with a drawing of the crime scene]

There is (or rather was) a chain of events which makes what happened to Somerton Man make sense. The facts are that much of that chain of events is lost in the passage of time, likely never to be recovered. It is not that there is no story, it is just that not enough is known for us to have the story. The story is not accessible, it is lost to the realm of speculation.

A guide to the land of Faerie

A guide to the land of Faerie

Which makes it splendid fodder for fiction, since the writer can do what reality can likely no longer do–provide a coherent story. Somerton Man does not blur the difference between fact and fiction at all, but renders the constraints of fact particularly stark. We are pattern-seeking beings, and having merely bits of the pattern, so that the story is lost, is frustrating. Hence the urge to find the missing pieces, the enticement of an unsolved mystery. Unsolved because the key bits of the pattern we want to discern, the story, the chain of events which makes things make sense, are lost to us.

But the distinction between fact and fiction is not quite the same has that between fiction and non-fiction. For fact has no audience, it just is. It may or may not be discovered, but is not less real for not being known–otherwise the process of discovery is something else. Non-fiction and fiction both have an audience (or at least seek to do so). They are aimed at an audience, at garnering a readership or viewers. One is an audience for facts, presented coherently; the other for tales, which offer a more complete coherence.

Non-fiction accepts the constraints of fact; which are heavy constraints. But does so without the joy and burden of creation that fiction both instantiates and labours under. Indeed, the constraints of fact are so heavy, much non-fiction fails to abide by them, intentionally or unintentionally, to a greater or lesser extent.

The commonalities of seeking an audience, and providing pattern and structure, do not, however, relieve the writer of the constraints of the difference between fact and fiction. On the contrary, they make those constraints of distinction even more important. To blur the distinction so that the reader does not know whether they are dealing with fact or fiction is not to play fair with the reader, with the audience. It is a distinction with a difference and a conscientious writer is always acutely aware of it.

Hence novelists, particularly historical novelists, typically research the facts of a period so they can invoke it more effectively. Getting the period details right also plays fair with the reader, that the world they are being asked to believe in could have happened; the more we believe in the possibility of its reality, the more we are transported into it. The more it has secondary belief.

Fiction can, after all, not only provide us with a sense of the past (or the future) but also the present. Over the years, many an observation by a novelist (particularly female novelists) on abiding emotional truths about people, and the interactions they have, has provided me with enlightenment, or solace, or both. Nor am I the only one, as this classic blog post I am a Dark Elf expresses nicely; how a Muslim immigrant can find inspiration in the story of a drow from tales set in the Dungeons & Dragons universe. A story has that much more power the more it is embedded in the reality of people, in emotional truth.

Yet, they remain made-up stories, things of secondary belief, of sub-creation, however great the art and perception they may embody.  The story of Somerton Man is not made up; it is opaque to us precisely because it is not made up. As Tolkien says of Fantasy, but applies to fiction generally:

Fantasy is a natural human activity. It certainly does not destroy or even insult Reason; and it does not either blunt the appetite for, nor obscure the perception of, scientific verity. On the contrary. The keener and the clearer is the reason, the better fantasy will it make. If men were ever in a state in which they did not want to know or could not perceive truth (facts or evidence), then Fantasy would languish until they were cured. If they ever get into that state (it would not seem at all impossible), Fantasy will perish, and become Morbid Delusion.

For creative Fantasy is founded upon the hard recognition that things are so in the world as it appears under the sun; on a recognition of fact, but not a slavery to it. So upon logic was founded the nonsense that displays itself in the tales and rhymes of Lewis Carroll. If men really could not distinguish between frogs and men, fairy-stories about frog-kings would not have arisen.

How real are you? Real enough for emotional power?

How real are you? Real enough for emotional power?

The appeal of fiction is precisely that it invokes the reality we live in but is not entirely constrained by it. In particular, it does not have the epistemic constraints of reality. There is precisely the level of mystery about people, their action and motives that the author chooses, and no more. Reality is nowhere near as obliging. We can only work with what we have or can find, with no guarantees or promises that it will be enough.

As reading Kerry Greenwood’s rather splendid rendition of the mystery of the unknown man, dead of unknown causes, found on Somerton beach in 1948, makes very clear; a rendition interwoven with her past and that of her father’s. To seek to blur the distinction between fact and fiction is not to provide new understanding, it is to betray the understandings that both can give us.

 

Boston Manhunt Ends

By DeusExMacintosh

Stiff Cheddar

By DeusExMacintosh

Dairy Crest props up pension scheme with cheese mountain

A giant mountain of maturing cheddar cheese is to be used as security for a pension fund.

Twenty million kilos of Cathedral City cheddar will now back up pension funds of workers at Dairy Crest, one of the UK’s biggest cheesemakers.

Some 20,000 pallets of the cheese, nearly half the company’s total stock, have been pledged to the pension fund trustees.

The cheese is made in Cornwall, but matured in a warehouse in Warwickshire. It is kept on the shelves there for 12 months.

In the event of the pension fund running into financial trouble, the trustees will now be able to sell blocks of cheddar to make up the shortfall.

Like many companies in the dairy industry, Dairy Crest has been trying to eliminate its pension deficit.

It has not been helped by the huge numbers of retired milkmen, from the days when nearly every household had its milk delivered. Of 3,000 members of the current scheme, most are milkmen. The scheme is now closed.

- BBC News

 

This is also the Saturday chit-chat thread.

Bubble trouble: about asset booms and busts

By Lorenzo

Assets are items that produce income or retain value across time periods. Gold is a pure store-of-value asset, as it produces no income. Bonds are pure income assets, as they have no value apart from the income they produce–they are best thought of as a congealed money stream, their value being set by that money stream. Other assets–such as houses–can operate as both sources of income and stores of value. Particularly if they (or at least the land they are on) are positional goods (houses themselves being large decaying physical objects).

Asset prices can go up and can go down

Colloquially, asset bubbles are high levels of volatility in asset prices so that there are dramatic price surges and collapses. More precisely, they are major upward spikes well in excess of the long-term trends in the price of the asset which, after a time, collapse back to the long-term trend.

Because assets can generate capital gains, the expectation of rising prices can itself drive up demand. If supply is constrained, then you get demand feedbacks based on the expectations of rising prices. So prices rise because prices are expected to rise. The price becomes dependent on expectations about future prices anchored, to a significant degree, in nothing but expectations. As long as those expectations are positive, prices rise. When those expectations become negative, prices fall. The effect is dependent on not being able to reliably predict turning points, since people would not buy at a price which would lose value if turning points were predictable.

bubbleburst

So, if you can predict turning points, you cannot have bubbles. If you get rising prices significantly anchored in nothing but expectations of rising prices and are unable to predict turning points (as the relevant information does not yet exist), then you get asset booms that can become bubbles. And you cannot have bubbles in bonds, because they are pure congealed income. (“Busted bonds” are a different matter, but they are no longer congealed income, merely possible income.)

Note that the point that one cannot predict turning points has to be taken seriously. Even if prices are significantly based on expectations of rising prices, that in itself tells us nothing about when those expectations will collapse, or even if they will. The only vindication of characterising a asset price surge as a bubble is the price collapse actually occurring. As long as it has not, then the possibility of the expectations about rising prices turning out to match long term price trends remains open. Hence the asset price surge in the first place–because you cannot reliably predict turning points.

Moreover, the price of the asset will reflect current information, the current level of supply and demand. It is the “real” price. Whether or not it turns out to be above or below the long-term trend as it actually manifests is a matter for discovery.

What do you mean by ‘bubble’?

So, I do not agree that there are no such thing as asset booms and busts that can be reasonably described as bubbles; as an empirical matter of fact, they happen. But I also do not agree that they are somehow “false” prices. They are merely prices that turn out not to be sustained, which is not the same thing.

But it does rather turn on what one means by ‘bubble’.  I was prompted to write this post by this post by Scott Sumner. In the comments, Prof. Sumner makes the point that:

 No one denies that there are sharp rises and falls in asset prices. The debate is over what that means.

preview_Preview

Quite. Typically, it is really a debate over the efficient market hypothesis or, more generally, the “rationality” of markets. It is true that people and institutions can get into serious financial trouble by betting against (either their own bets or funding other people’s) any downward volatility in asset prices. A famous case in Oz history was the collapse of the 1880s land boom in Melbourne that led to the 1893 banking crisis and did a great deal to make the 1890s depression so severe in Victoria. But that prices are not sustained does not make them “unreal”, it just makes them volatile. And there is no reason to expect assets prices not to be volatile, particularly if there are restrictions on supply or inherent uncertainties (such as the effects of new technology [pdf]).

If people think that current prices are “obviously” unsustainable, there are various instruments whereby they can put their money where their mouth is.  But that is just another way of presuming foreknowledge of future asset prices; indeed, a level of foreknowledge that, if it was in any way reliable, would preclude the asset price volatility we observe.

The really unknown future

So, there are asset price bubbles but they are only reliably discernible after the fact. Claiming that something is “obviously” a bubble before the fact is another way of not taking the lack of foreknowledge, and thus asset price volatility, seriously. Which is the real problem with asset price booms and busts. And if all you are really saying is that asset prices can be volatile–well, yes, obviously.

Identifying possible scenarios is perhaps a more productive exercise than unspecified predictions of a putative price collapse at some unknown point in the future.

Perhaps the last word should go to the wise trader quoted in the acknowledgements of Carmen Reinhart & Kenneth Rogoff’s splendid This Time Is Different: Eight Centuries of Financial Folly:

A trader with an uncharacteristically long memory explained, “More money has been lost because of just four words than at the point of a gun. Those words are ‘This time is different’.” (p.xxxvii)

Asset prices go up and down because markets register the information, including expectations, people act on. The folly is in assuming that the future can be known, that this time is different. And yes, markets are the worst way of generating and collating information about the value of assets: except for all the others that have been tried from time to time. (Which does not preclude there being very live issues about the structure of particular markets.)