In our society, this common currency of expected utilons is called “money”. It is the measure of how much society cares about something.
What is this ‘society’ of which you speak?
And why should we expect a common currency of utilions? Money can buy you lots of things, but not anything. Plenty of people give up lucrative careers for more satisfying ones. That doesn’t negate your overall argument, but I think you’re wrong on that particular point.
My view is that charity has less to do with actually helping the needy than with signaling compassion to others. If that’s right, the relevant metric of charitableness could well be something like resources expended rather than benefit produced. Additionally, helping at the soup kitchen may be more visible and salient to others than giving money. A lot of people would be reluctant to actively inform others that they’d given $100 to helping the needy, but feel comfortable trumpeting their volunteering to all and sundry. If someone asks you what you’ve been doing, it’s much easier to say ‘helping at a soup kitchen’ than ‘working an hour and donating the proceeds to charity’.
Plenty of people give up lucrative careers for more satisfying ones.
That’s the whole point EY is making—in this very example money is the fungible currency of utilons. How much more satisfying? Satisfying enough to give up $X/year.
At least that much more satisfying, because at least that much money was given up.
This doesn’t provide us with a way to establish a conversion between caring and money, because if someone was willing to turn down an arbitrarily-large salary at doing X to do Y instead, we can’t calculate a ratio.
I didn’t read EY as making that point. The ‘hit points’ analogy suggests that he’s giving money priority over other things. Am I wrong?
In any case, there are some things that don’t seem measurable in dollar terms: how much money would I accept to drop X% in social status or Y fewer friends? I have no idea. I’m not suggesting that people don’t trade these things off, just that money is not a neutral currency with which we can compare the value of any two things. It allows for a imperfect but useful comparison of the subjective value of things for which a market exists. I know how much I’m willing to pay for a tomato or a computer because I’m accustomed to trading money for tomatoes, and thus I know that a marginal computer is worth more to me than a marginal tomato. I have no idea how much I would pay for a friend, in terms of money or tomatoes, because I have no experience trading these things off against each other.
I didn’t read EY as making that point. The ‘hit points’ analogy suggests that he’s giving money priority over other things.
Like Ciphergoth, I think EY’s point is that you can determine how much someone cares about some cause by seeing how much money they’re willing to give up for that cause. So money has no inherent value in itself. It’s only value is in giving it away to get something else in return; a sentiment I think most rational people agree and accept with.
In any case, there are some things that don’t seem measurable in dollar terms: how much money would I accept to drop X% in social status or Y fewer friends?
You’re looking at it in the reverse direction. It’s not about receiving money. It’s about giving up money. How much money would you be willing to spend for an increase in social status, or having more friends? Would you be willing to spend money to buy better clothes, an expensive watch, a nice car, a nice home, etc. for an increase in status? Would you be willing to pay for membership to some club, or for internet access, or at a social bar, for the opportunity to make more friends?
I have no idea how much I would pay for a friend.
If my best friend had cancer, and needed money for treatment, I’d probably contribute up until the thousands. It may sound harsh, cold and calculating, but when we get into the tens of thousands, it simply becomes too much for me to contribute. I care that my friend lives comfortably, but not infinitely so. The amount of money I’m willing to give up is an indication of the magnitude of how much I care.
What is this ‘society’ of which you speak?
And why should we expect a common currency of utilions? Money can buy you lots of things, but not anything. Plenty of people give up lucrative careers for more satisfying ones. That doesn’t negate your overall argument, but I think you’re wrong on that particular point.
My view is that charity has less to do with actually helping the needy than with signaling compassion to others. If that’s right, the relevant metric of charitableness could well be something like resources expended rather than benefit produced. Additionally, helping at the soup kitchen may be more visible and salient to others than giving money. A lot of people would be reluctant to actively inform others that they’d given $100 to helping the needy, but feel comfortable trumpeting their volunteering to all and sundry. If someone asks you what you’ve been doing, it’s much easier to say ‘helping at a soup kitchen’ than ‘working an hour and donating the proceeds to charity’.
That’s the whole point EY is making—in this very example money is the fungible currency of utilons. How much more satisfying? Satisfying enough to give up $X/year.
At least that much more satisfying, because at least that much money was given up.
This doesn’t provide us with a way to establish a conversion between caring and money, because if someone was willing to turn down an arbitrarily-large salary at doing X to do Y instead, we can’t calculate a ratio.
I didn’t read EY as making that point. The ‘hit points’ analogy suggests that he’s giving money priority over other things. Am I wrong?
In any case, there are some things that don’t seem measurable in dollar terms: how much money would I accept to drop X% in social status or Y fewer friends? I have no idea. I’m not suggesting that people don’t trade these things off, just that money is not a neutral currency with which we can compare the value of any two things. It allows for a imperfect but useful comparison of the subjective value of things for which a market exists. I know how much I’m willing to pay for a tomato or a computer because I’m accustomed to trading money for tomatoes, and thus I know that a marginal computer is worth more to me than a marginal tomato. I have no idea how much I would pay for a friend, in terms of money or tomatoes, because I have no experience trading these things off against each other.
Like Ciphergoth, I think EY’s point is that you can determine how much someone cares about some cause by seeing how much money they’re willing to give up for that cause. So money has no inherent value in itself. It’s only value is in giving it away to get something else in return; a sentiment I think most rational people agree and accept with.
You’re looking at it in the reverse direction. It’s not about receiving money. It’s about giving up money. How much money would you be willing to spend for an increase in social status, or having more friends? Would you be willing to spend money to buy better clothes, an expensive watch, a nice car, a nice home, etc. for an increase in status? Would you be willing to pay for membership to some club, or for internet access, or at a social bar, for the opportunity to make more friends?
If my best friend had cancer, and needed money for treatment, I’d probably contribute up until the thousands. It may sound harsh, cold and calculating, but when we get into the tens of thousands, it simply becomes too much for me to contribute. I care that my friend lives comfortably, but not infinitely so. The amount of money I’m willing to give up is an indication of the magnitude of how much I care.
Just noticed that taw makes the same signaling point below.