Yvain has seen the misery of Haiti and India firsthand; but it seems only with his eyes.
I very specifically mentioned potential First World outlays to Third World countries as exceptions to my point. For example, I said:
There may be useful indirect actions, like advancing technology, increasing tax revenue that can be spent on useful absolute goods, and increasing the amount that flows as charity to the Third World (emphasis added)
Other than that, my entire argument was based on the “happiness follows economic growth up to a certain point, then stops” argument that has been mentioned here so many times before. That means a parable talking about how great certain interventions could be for the Third World is irrelevant; the post was very specifically and explicitly aimed at the First.
(I also think the benefits from lack of iodine deficiency are a lot less siphon-away-able)
The “60% serious” number may indeed be too high, though. I meant it to signal that I thought the argument was correct in all of its main points, but probably falls apart because the increase in productivity would produce very small benefits rather than no benefits, and “very small benefits” multiplied by the entire economy still end out pretty huge, especially if some of them end out in the Third World through the indirect methods I mentioned earlier.
I very specifically mentioned potential First World outlays to Third World countries as exceptions to my point:
The other organ I was looking for was not the heart but the head. Why are some people poor, and others rich? We run on our golden treadmills faster and longer, and what do we get out of it? Something, it would seem; the indigent in America do not eat mud to feel something in their belly.
Other than that, my entire argument was based on the “happiness follows economic growth up to a certain point, then stops” argument that has been mentioned here so many times before
Happiness! A life’s value is not denominated in smiles. How does satisfaction relate to economic growth?
(I also think the benefits from lack of iodine deficiency are a lot less siphon-away-able)
One day, a stranger came to the village. He carried with him a curious dried herb and sack of seed. The herb’s leaves, he claimed, could be brewed into a soporific tea. Those that took it he would sleep twelve hours a day, instead of eight.
The elders again convened to consider the stranger’s tea. If one man took it, that man would get less done- but if all men took it, then one man’s loss would be balanced by the other’s. Many in the village were fond of their dreams, they said to each other, and so the weed seemed a boon.
When they brought the tea before the village, many nodded at the wisdom of the elders, but one farmer, so poor he had to pull his plow himself, balked. “If you shorten my day,” he said with despair, “then I must shorten my fields, for there are only so many days in the year one can plow, and my poor feet can only move so quickly.”
A woman spoke next. “Sixteen hours of spinning buys me four fish; enough to feed myself and my three children. If I can only spin for twelve hours, then I will only get enough cloth for three fish- and which of my children would you have me not feed?”
The elders did not answer, but then one of the elder’s sons spoke. “I already pay for candles to make my day longer,” he said, “as the sun does not give me as many hours to read as I would like. If you shorten my day, then you shrink how large my mind may grow, for there are more books out there than a lifetime of reading, and yet I would read as many as I can.”
A singer was next, her mellifluous voice carrying easily across the village square. “I enjoy my dreams as much as the next woman, but I enjoy the sound of my voice more.” There were chuckles as she admitted to one of the village’s many jokes. “To only sing for twelve hours a day would make me and my listeners that much poorer.”
Others moved to speak, but the elders were elders because they could see which way the wind blew. “We will run this stranger and his poison weed out of our village!” they declared, and the stranger was soon running towards the woods, watched by angry eyes.
I meant it to signal that I thought the argument was correct in all of its main points, but probably falls apart because the increase in productivity would produce very small benefits rather than no benefits, and “very small benefits” multiplied by the entire economy still end out pretty huge
By 60% serious you mean you expect it is wrong? That is not how I treat my seriousness.
Happiness! A life’s value is not denominated in smiles.
It’s not denominated in dollars either, and if I had to pick one word to stand for humans’ terminal values it would be much ‘closer’ to “happiness” than to “economy”.
If every spinster drinks the sleeping tea, less cloth will be made, but people will need it just as much. Thus cloth will become more precious, and people will be willing to pay 4⁄3 of the old price. The kids won’t starve.
If every spinster drinks the sleeping tea, less cloth will be made, but people will need it just as much. Thus cloth will become more precious, and people will be willing to pay 4⁄3 of the old price. The kids won’t starve.
Instead, someone else goes unclothed.
More generally, if everyone drinks the tea and produces only 3⁄4 as much, everyone, on average, will be 1⁄4 poorer. Price movements only affect how the poverty is distributed. (Of course, they also affect what new resources are tapped, what new inventions are made, how hard people will work during their reduced hours, how existing resources are redistributed among their uses, and how effort will be redistributed among the different productive activities, but that is going beyond the purpose of the parable.)
Yvain’s premise is that the country is warm, so people only make clothes to show off their wealth, ability to sew, and taste in fashion. Someone decides “I was already reluctant to buy those expensive rags, now they’re just too expensive” and joins the ranks of streakers.
I (arguably incorrectly) brought attention to the usage of “spinster”. The snark I intended came off as chiding. Plus, my post cited the recent philosophy poll in a way that was pedantic at best.
If there was anything of redeeming value, I would have left it up rather than blanking the post pre-retraction...
I very specifically mentioned potential First World outlays to Third World countries as exceptions to my point. For example, I said:
Other than that, my entire argument was based on the “happiness follows economic growth up to a certain point, then stops” argument that has been mentioned here so many times before. That means a parable talking about how great certain interventions could be for the Third World is irrelevant; the post was very specifically and explicitly aimed at the First.
(I also think the benefits from lack of iodine deficiency are a lot less siphon-away-able)
The “60% serious” number may indeed be too high, though. I meant it to signal that I thought the argument was correct in all of its main points, but probably falls apart because the increase in productivity would produce very small benefits rather than no benefits, and “very small benefits” multiplied by the entire economy still end out pretty huge, especially if some of them end out in the Third World through the indirect methods I mentioned earlier.
The other organ I was looking for was not the heart but the head. Why are some people poor, and others rich? We run on our golden treadmills faster and longer, and what do we get out of it? Something, it would seem; the indigent in America do not eat mud to feel something in their belly.
Happiness! A life’s value is not denominated in smiles. How does satisfaction relate to economic growth?
One day, a stranger came to the village. He carried with him a curious dried herb and sack of seed. The herb’s leaves, he claimed, could be brewed into a soporific tea. Those that took it he would sleep twelve hours a day, instead of eight.
The elders again convened to consider the stranger’s tea. If one man took it, that man would get less done- but if all men took it, then one man’s loss would be balanced by the other’s. Many in the village were fond of their dreams, they said to each other, and so the weed seemed a boon.
When they brought the tea before the village, many nodded at the wisdom of the elders, but one farmer, so poor he had to pull his plow himself, balked. “If you shorten my day,” he said with despair, “then I must shorten my fields, for there are only so many days in the year one can plow, and my poor feet can only move so quickly.”
A woman spoke next. “Sixteen hours of spinning buys me four fish; enough to feed myself and my three children. If I can only spin for twelve hours, then I will only get enough cloth for three fish- and which of my children would you have me not feed?”
The elders did not answer, but then one of the elder’s sons spoke. “I already pay for candles to make my day longer,” he said, “as the sun does not give me as many hours to read as I would like. If you shorten my day, then you shrink how large my mind may grow, for there are more books out there than a lifetime of reading, and yet I would read as many as I can.”
A singer was next, her mellifluous voice carrying easily across the village square. “I enjoy my dreams as much as the next woman, but I enjoy the sound of my voice more.” There were chuckles as she admitted to one of the village’s many jokes. “To only sing for twelve hours a day would make me and my listeners that much poorer.”
Others moved to speak, but the elders were elders because they could see which way the wind blew. “We will run this stranger and his poison weed out of our village!” they declared, and the stranger was soon running towards the woods, watched by angry eyes.
By 60% serious you mean you expect it is wrong? That is not how I treat my seriousness.
It’s not denominated in dollars either, and if I had to pick one word to stand for humans’ terminal values it would be much ‘closer’ to “happiness” than to “economy”.
If every spinster drinks the sleeping tea, less cloth will be made, but people will need it just as much. Thus cloth will become more precious, and people will be willing to pay 4⁄3 of the old price. The kids won’t starve.
Instead, someone else goes unclothed.
More generally, if everyone drinks the tea and produces only 3⁄4 as much, everyone, on average, will be 1⁄4 poorer. Price movements only affect how the poverty is distributed. (Of course, they also affect what new resources are tapped, what new inventions are made, how hard people will work during their reduced hours, how existing resources are redistributed among their uses, and how effort will be redistributed among the different productive activities, but that is going beyond the purpose of the parable.)
Yvain’s premise is that the country is warm, so people only make clothes to show off their wealth, ability to sew, and taste in fashion. Someone decides “I was already reluctant to buy those expensive rags, now they’re just too expensive” and joins the ranks of streakers.
So is demand for cloth elastic, or is it not?
That’s the parable of the broken window.
How many fish does the fisherman catch in an hour?
Aimed for cleverness, failed. Apologies. Retracting.
It’s the right word.
Bludgeoning people with poorly-constructed polls isn’t kosher, particularly when you’re wrong in the first place.
What was this about? Just curious.
I (arguably incorrectly) brought attention to the usage of “spinster”. The snark I intended came off as chiding. Plus, my post cited the recent philosophy poll in a way that was pedantic at best.
If there was anything of redeeming value, I would have left it up rather than blanking the post pre-retraction...
Downvoting you for attempting to abuse my vote.