Digifesto

Tag: economics

brief theses on wealth and value

There’s a longer version of this argument to be made, but I wanted to see if I could present it briefly.

  1. What is wealth?
  2. Nominal financial worth — in terms of, e.g. US dollars, and other fiat currency, is clearly not a good measure of wealth.
    • Because it is often based on speculative pricing.
    • Because it is vulnerable to inflation.
    • Because of all kinds of market irregularities and exogenous shocks that are not ‘priced in’.
  3. Purchasing power or exchange value of owned assets is not a coherent measure of wealth, because that would not direct which trades are favorable.
    • A practical consequence of a theory of wealth is that it should provide a guide as to what sorts of things are comparatively worth having; this is a quite different question from which trades are tactically advantageous for accumulation.
  4. Macroeconomic theory provides an interesting answer:
    • The economy creates ‘value’, which is stored in assets that people own.
    • This value is ultimately, well, valuable, when it is consumed — destroyed — which provides utility to the consumer.
    • Wealth is thus a store of potential utility attain through the destruction of wealth.
    • It has been said that this is a ‘thermodynamic’ theory, because utility realization is a form of ‘entropy’. Energy is constant until it is lost.
  5. This macroeconomic theory is also a bad theory of wealth.
    • Nobody really believes the foolish idea that what people most prefer is the thermodynamic destruction of what is valuable.
    • To the extent that this is the prevailing scientific theory that our society is built around, it’s a disastrous one.
    • It’s appalling that, given what’s at stake in ‘the economy’, the world hasn’t come up with a better theory.
    • I think this is largely a methods technology issue, and that motivates a lot of my current research, but I digress.
  6. Some good things about this macroeconomic theory of wealth:
    • Wealth is a store of value, where ‘storage’ is due to the situatedness of wealth in a larger system of exchange.
    • The value is realized by personal needs or preferences.
  7. What do people actually want or need?
    • It’s not setting valuable things on fire — most of the time.
    • The big idea: the intrinsic motivation of all things is self-preservation over time.
      • This is conatus to Hobbes and Spinoza.
      • This is at the heart of enactivist psychology, and the connection between constitutive autonomy and intrinsic motivation.
        • (Christoph Salge and I are working on a book chapter about this, connecting it to AI legal responsibility. But I think this point also applies to economic theory.)
    • Self-preservation of (dynamic) systems actually requires very good energy retention, or Weiner’s negentropy, not entropy. Utility is about life continuation, not fireworks.
      • (Ok, it is a little of both.)
    • Implications:
      • “Health is wealth.”
      • “Sustainability” is wealth.
  8. A mathematically coherent, falsifiable theory of human and economic behavior that tracked the right variables for measuring wealth would be good.
    • It could help households make better decisions.
    • It could help governments make better decisions.
    • It could help businesses make better decisions.
    • I expect that this does not imply a very radical change in how accounting is done. Rather, I think it’s a meaningful but subtle distinction worth making.

In other news, we’re exploring solar panels on our house, and will finally improve our insulation and windows this year. These kind of home improvements for energy efficiency are subsidized by the federal government and state of New York, and this is wise policy. I believe this is aligned with this ‘theory of wealth’, since energy efficient residential real estate is perhaps the sina qua non of wealth in the sense articulated here.

some philosophical progress, and next steps

I had a wonderful time at FAccT 2026 in Montreal. I was at the first FAT* in 2018 and thought it was doing something important — creating an intellectual space for serious thinking about powerful socio-technical systems in a way that’s consistent with computational thinking. Prior to that conference, I didn’t know where to publish work along those lines. This year was my third time publishing at it, second time presenting. This year, I presented a paper that was all about causal modeling in service of privacy-by-design, which brings closure on a long engagement with trying to mathematize social norms. I’m satisfied by how we did this, and the approach is very extensible. I intend to build on it in various ways for the rest of my career.

At one moment of the conference, in one of the socials, there was a bit of a philosophical exchange. I discovered that I am not the only person in the world that subscribes to both enactivist and transcendental pragmatist principles, and in fact these approaches seemed to be an increasingly good fit for the direction of the field, though I did hear Agre and postmodernism mentioned a few times.

So, happily, I’m feeling settled in what have been my two greatest intellectual preoccupations: the question of what is true, and the question of what is right or good. Provisionally — and I suppose this sort of thing is always provisional — I feel well educated on these matters, and have tested several theories, and been wrong enough times, to have a rough idea of the right methods for approaching these problems. I’ve made a good deal of progress by accepting, with some humility, that there is maybe not so much room for innovation in these areas as one might have hoped in earlier years. The conclusions (so far) of the process of inquiry are mundane, not spectacular or ‘radical’. However, it is comforting to have greater confidence in common sense than I once did.

To try to put it briefly, I think the following is the case. We are individually and collectively alive, and this is a condition for our knowledge and relationships with others. Knowledge, and cognition more generally, is a process of adaptation whereby a living system responds to change and maintains viability over time, as it is structurally coupled with their environment. An individual’s mental habits are those that survive experience and inquiry and, above all, maintain the life of the individual. The ‘contents’ of the mental states of the individual are those representations, coupled bodily with the environment, which capture useful sensorimotor regularities of their local world. In this sense, knowledge is embodied, personal, and particular, at the individual, ‘ontogenic’ level. (This is all ‘enactivism’ in a nutshell; it is also ‘pragmatism’ in Peirce’s sense; and something borrowed from traditional philosophy of mind.)

However, no individual exists alone. We are born with chromosomes from two parents. We are raised, live, and die in society. The collective social organism is also alive, and must maintain its viability over time. The development of language, institutions, communication systems — including the legal system, property laws, and markets — are a kind of ‘cognition’ at the collective, or ‘phylogenic” level. It is at this level ‘objectivity’ is constructed; knowledge can be ‘transcendent’ of individual bodies because its meaning comes from its use in social forms. As a specific accomplishment of certain kinds of social systems, we get general representations of the world that are reliably ‘true’. And, as a specific accomplishment of certain other kinds of social systems, we can get representations of social behavior that are reliably ‘good’ or ‘right’, mainly because they interactively maintain the viability of the collective, and the individual, dependent on it, within it. Considering society decomposed into separate mutually supportive but distinctly personal spheres of activity, we get Contextual Integrity, and the implied norms of personal information flow. Considering society in its broadest sense, we get Dewey’s notions of social democracy, and ultimately Habermasian notions of legal legitimacy.

Thus construed, we have lots of room to improve ourselves in both knowledge and wisdom. This is primarily achieved by the improvement of institutions and social forms, as these are the harnesses which distinctly embodied agents create objective representations. Computational social science remains a worthy pursuit as a means to these ends. The ultimate end is survival and flourishing of humanity — one’s descendants, one’s society, one’s ecosystem — which is an intrinsic motivation which grounds the whole process transcendentally.

I’m grateful to Christoph Salge for working with me on a paper about enactivism and the legal responsibility of AI systems, which has refined and improved my confidence in these points.

The above is, I suppose, all well and good, but it’s incomplete in at least two respects, which I find bothersome. These two issues are at the heart of many of today’s deepest political conflicts, and I suppose they reflect inherent instabilities in the characterization of truth and goodness described above.

The first is the problem of tribes, or nations. Individuals can to some extent choose which collectives they are loyal to, and social collectives come into conflict. Universalist ethics are a longstanding ideal, but frequently come into conflict with particularist loyalties to tribe, race, state, etc. Some amount of loyalty to family seems essential for viability and is broadly good. When tribal conflict leads to war or subjugation, that is often not good. There is both cooperation and defection by tribes; tribal boundaries are unstable; tribes have their own local knowledge and customs and these can be in conflict with universals. A great deal has been written about this in various fields and I’m finding it so intractable that it has become tedious.

The second is the problem, or solution, of wealth. I’ll admit that I wish I had much more to say about this than I currently do. For one, while I believe I have a pretty good idea of what truth and ethics are, I do not have a similarly grounded concept of what wealth is. And yet, the distribution of wealth is the single greatest political and moral concern of our society, besides, maybe, the relations between tribes. Wealth cannot be the same thing as truth, and it cannot be the same thing as ethics — the tension between the three is obvious; and yet it seems connected to both in intrinsic ways. Some amount of wealth is necessary for the survival and flourishing of the individual and the collective. Wealth is sensitive to institutions — property and liability regimes, markets, and so on — but what makes these institutions proper or desirable? The assumptions of the prevailing theory often seem weak on inspection.

This latter issue is the subject of economics, but I have not yet been able to find economic theory that is on enactivist or systems-theoretic grounding. I have come to the conclusion that it doesn’t exist yet in a convincing or generalizable way, and it’s a problem my work is pointing at. A big methodological gap is in computational methods that are a good fit for the problem. This is what I’m most interested in advancing in the short term.

References

Maturana, H. (1988) Ontology of Observing: The Biological Foundations of Self-Consciousness and of The Physical Domain of Existence. https://reflexus.org/wp-content/uploads/oo3.pdf

About ethics and families

Most of the great historical philosophers did not have children.

I can understand why. For much of my life, I’ve been propelled by a desire to understand certain theoretical fundamentals of knowledge, ethics, and the universe. No doubt this has led me to become the scientist I am today. Since becoming a father, I have less time for these questions. I find myself involved in more mundane details of life, and find myself beginning to envy those in what I had previously considered the most banal professions. Fatherhood involves a practical responsibility that comes front-and-center, displacing youthful ideals and speculations.

I’m quite proud to now be working on what are for me rather applied problems. But these problems have deep philosophical roots and I enjoy the thought that I will one day be able to write a mature philosophy as a much older man some time later. For now, I would like to jot down a few notes about how my philosophy has changed.

I write this now because my work is now intersecting with other research done by folks I know are profoundly ethically motivated people. My work on what is prosaically called “technology policy” is crossing into theoretical territory currently occupied by AI Safety researchers of the rationalist or Effective Altruist vein. I’ve encountered these folks before and respect their philosophical rigor, though I’ve never quite found myself in agreement with them. I continue to work on problems in legal theory as well, which always involves straddling the gap between consequentialism and deontological ethics. My more critical colleagues may be skeptical of my move towards quantitative economic methods, as the latter are associated with a politics that has been accused of lacking integrity. In short, I have several reasons to want to explain, to myself at least, why I’m working on the problems I’ve chosen, at least as a matter of my own philosophical trajectory.

So first, a point about logic. The principle of non-contradiction imposes a certain consistency and rigor on thought and encourages a form of universalism of theory and ethics. The internal consistency of the Kantian transcendental subject is the first foundation for deontological ethics. However, for what are essentially limitations of bounded rationality, this gives way in later theory to Habermasian discourse ethics. The internal consistency of the mind is replaced with the condition that to be involved in communicative action is to strive for agreement. Norms form from disinterested communications that collect and transcend the perspectival limits of the deliberators. In theory.

In practice, disinterested communication is all but impossible, and communicative competence is hard to find. At the time of this writing, my son does not yet know how to talk. But he communicates, and we do settle on norms, however transitory. The other day we established that he is not allowed to remove dirt from the big pot with the ficus elastica and deposit in other rooms of the house. This is a small accomplishment, but it highlights how unequal rationality, competence, and authority is not a secondary social aberration. It is a primary condition of life.

So much for deontology. Consequential ethics does not fare much better. Utility has always been a weakly theorized construct. In modern theory, it has been mathematized into something substantively meaningless. It serves mainly to describe behavior, rather than to explain it; it provides little except a just-so-story for a consumerist society which is, sure enough, best at consuming itself. Attempts to link utility to something like psychological pleasure, as was done in the olden days, have bizarre conclusions. Parents are not as happy, studies say, as those without children. So why bother?

Nietzsche was a fierce critic of both Kantian deontological ethics and facile British utilitarianism. He argued that in the face of the absurdity of both systems, the philosopher had to derive new values from the one principle that they could not, logically, deny: life itself. He believed that a new ethics could be derived from the conditions of life, which for him was a process of overcoming resistance in pursuit of other (perhaps arbitrary) goals. Suffering, for Nietzsche, was not a blemish on life; rather, life is sacred enough to justify monstrous amounts of suffering.

Nietzsche went insane and died before he could finish his moral project. He didn’t have kids. If he had, maybe he would have come to some new conclusions about the basis for ethics.

In my humble opinion and limited experience thus far, fatherhood is largely about working to maintain the conditions of life for one’s family. Any attempt at universalism that does not extend to one’s own offspring is a practical contradiction when one considers how one was once a child. The biological chain of being is direct, immediate, and resource intensive in a way too little acknowledged in philosophical theory.

In lieu of individual utility, the reality of family highlights the priority of viability, or the capacity of a complex, living system to maintain itself and its autonomy over time. The theory of viability was developed in the 20th century through the field of cybernetics — for example, by Stafford Beer — though it was never quite successfully formulated or integrated into the now hegemonic STEM disciplines. Nevertheless, viability provides a scientific criterion by which to evaluate social meaning and ethics. I believe that there is still tremendous potential in cybernetics as an answer to longstanding philosophical quandaries, though to truly capture this value certain mathematical claims need to be fleshed out.

However, an admission of the biological connection between human beings cannot eclipse economic realities that, like it or not, have structured human life for thousands of years. And indeed, in these early days of child-rearing, I find myself ill-equipped to address all of my son’s biological needs relative to my wife and instead have a comparative advantage in the economic aspects of his, our, lives. And so my current work, which involves computational macroeconomics and the governance of technology, is in fact profoundly personal and of essential ethical importance. Economics has a reputation today for being a technical and politically compromised discipline. We forget that it was originally, and maybe still is, a branch of moral philosophy deeply engaged with questions of justice precisely because it addresses the conditions of life. This ethical imperative persists despite, or indeed because of, its technical complexity. It may be where STEM can address questions of ethics directly. If only it had the right tools.

In summary, I see promise in the possibility of computational economics, if inspired by some currently marginalized ideas from cybernetics, in satisfactorily addressing some perplexing philosophical questions. My thirsting curiosity, at the very least, is slaked by daily progress along this path. I find in it the mathematical rigor I require. At the same time, there is space in this work for grappling with the troublingly political, including the politics of gender and race, which are both of course inexorably tangled with the reality of families. What does it mean, for the politics of knowledge, if the central philosophical unit and subject of knowledge is not the individual, or the state, or the market, but the family? I have not encountered even the beginning of an answer in all my years of study.

Land and gold (Arendt, Horkheimer)

I am thirty, still in graduate school, and not thrilled about the prospects of home ownership since all any of the professionals around me talk about is the sky-rocketing price of real estate around the critical American urban centers.

It is with a leisure afforded by graduate school that I am able to take the long view on this predicament. It is very cheap to spend ones idle time reading Arendt, who has this to say about the relationship between wealth and property:

The profound connection between private and public, manifest on its most elementary level in the question of private property, is likely to be misunderstood today because of the modern equation of property and wealth on one side and propertylessness and poverty on the other. This misunderstanding is all the more annoying as both, property as well as wealth, are historically of greater relevance to the public realm than any other private matter or concern and have played, at least formally, more or less the same role as the chief condition for admission to the public realm and full-fledged citizenship. It is therefore easy to forget that wealth and property, far from being the same, are of an entirely different nature. The present emergence everywhere of actually or potentially very wealthy societies which at the same time are essentially propertyless, because the wealth of any single individual consists of his share in the annual income of society as a whole, clearly shows how little these two things are connected.

For Arendt, beginning with her analysis of ancient Greek society, property (landholding) is the condition of ones participation in democracy. It is a place of residence and source of ones material fulfilment, which is a prerequisite to ones free (because it is unnecessitated) participation in public life. This is contrasted with wealth, which is a feature of private life and is unpolitical. In ancient society, slaves could own wealth, but not property.

If we look at the history of Western civilization as a progression away from this rather extreme moment, we see the rise of social classes whose power is based on in landholding but in wealth. Industrialism and the economy based on private ownership of capital is a critical transition in history. That capital is not bound to a particular location but rather is mobile across international boundaries is one of the things that characterizes global capitalism and brings it in tension with a geographically bounded democratic state. It is interesting that a Jeffersonian democracy, designed with the assumption of landholding citizens, should predate industrial capitalism and be consitutionally unprepared for the result, but nevertheless be one of the models for other democratic governance structures throughout the world.

If private ownership of capital, not land, defines political power under capitalism, then wealth, not property, becomes the measure of ones status and security. For a time, when wealth was as a matter of international standard exchangeable for gold, private ownership of gold could replace private ownership of land as the guarantee of ones material security and thereby grounds for ones independent existence. This independent, free rationality has since Aristotle been the purpose (telos) of man.

In the United States, Franklin Roosevelt’s 1933 Executive Order 6102 forbade the private ownership of gold. The purpose of this was to free the Federal Reserve of the gold market’s constraint on increasing the money supply during the Great Depression.

A perhaps unexpected complaint against this political move comes from Horkheimer (Eclipse of Reason, 1947), who sees this as a further affront to individualism by capitalism.

The age of vast industrial power, by eliminating the perspectives of a stable past and future that grew out of ostensibly permanent property relations, is the process of liquidating the individual. The deterioration of his situation is perhaps best measured in terms of his utter insecurity as regards to his personal savings. As long as currencies were rigidly tied to gold, and gold could flow freely over frontiers, its value could shift only within narrow limits. Under present-day conditions the dangers of inflation, of a substantial reduction or complete loss of the purchasing power of his savings, lurks around the next corner. Private possession of gold was the symbol of bourgeois rule. Gold made the burgher somehow the successor of the aristocrat. With it he could establish security for himself and be reasonable sure that even after his death his dependents would not be completely sucked up by the economic system. His more or less independent position, based on his right to exchange goods and money for gold, and therefore on the relatively stable property values, expressed itself in the interest he took in the cultivation of his own personality–not, as today, in order to achieve a better career or for any professional reason, but for the sake of his own individual existence. The effort was meaningful because the material basis of the individual was not wholly unstable. Although the masses could not aspire to the position of the burgher, the presence of a relatively numerous class of individuals who were governed by interest in humanistic values formed the background for a kind of theoretical thought as well as for the type of manifestions in the arts that by virtue of their inherent truth express the needs of society as a whole.

Horkheimer’s historical arc, like many Marxists, appears to ignore its parallels in antiquity. Monetary policy in the Roman Empire, which used something like a gold standard, was not always straightforward. Inflation was sometimes a severe problem when generals would print money to pay the soldiers hat supported their political coups. So it’s not clear that the modern economy is more unstable than gold or land based economies. However, the criticism that economic security is largely a matter of ones continued participation in a larger system, and that there is little in the way of financial security besides this, holds. He continues:

The state’s restriction on the right to possess gold is the symbol of a complete change. Even the members of the middle class must resign themselves to insecurity. The individual consoles himself with the thought that his government, corporation, association, union, or insurance company will take care of him when he becomes ill or reaches the retiring age. The various laws prohibiting private possession of gold symbolize the verdict against the independent economic individual. Under liberalism, the beggar was always an eyesore to the rentier. In the age of big business both beggar and rentier are vanishing. There are no safety zones on society’s thoroughfares. Everyone must keep moving. The entrepreneur has become a functionary, the scholar a professional expert. The philosopher’s maxim, Bene qui latuit, bene vixit, is incompatible with the modern business cycles. Everyone is under the whip of a superior agency. Those who occupy the commanding positions have little more autonomy than their subordinates; they are bound by the power they wield.

In an academic context, it is easy to make a connection between Horkheimer’s concerns about gold ownership and tenure. Academic tenure is or was the refuge of the individual who could in theory develop themselves as individuals in obscurity. The price of this autonomy, which according the philosophical tradition represents the highest possible achievement of man, is that one teaches. So, the developed individual passes on the values developed through contemplation and reflection to the young. The privatization of the university and the emphasis on teaching marketable skills that allow graduates to participate more fully in the economic system is arguably an extension of Horkheimer’s cultural apocalypse.

The counter to this is the claim that the economy as a whole achieves a kind of homeostasis that provides greater security than one whose value is bound to something stable and exogenous like gold and land. Ones savings are secure as long as the system doesn’t fail. Meanwhile, the price of access to cultural materials through which one might expand ones individuality (i.e. videos of academic lectures, the arts, or music) decrease as a consequence of the pervasiveness of the economy. At this point one feels one has reached the limits of Horkheimer’s critique, which perhaps only sees one side of the story despite its sublime passion. We see echoes of it in contemporary feminist critique, which emphasizes how the demands of necessity are disproportionately burdened by women and how this affects their role in the economy. That women have only relatively recently, in historical terms, been released from the private household into the public world (c.f. Arendt again) situates them more precariously within the economic system.

What remains unclear (to me) is how one should conceive of society and values when there is an available continuum of work, opportunity, leisure, individuality, art, and labor under conditions of contemporary technological control. Specifically, the notion of inequality becomes more complicated when one considers that society has never been equal in the sense that is often aspired to in contemporary American society. This is largely because the notion of equality we use today draws from two distinct sources. The first is the equality of self-sufficient landholding men as they encounter each other freely in the polis. Or, equivalently, as self-sufficient goldholding men in something like the Habermasian bourgeois public sphere. The second is equality within society, which is economically organized and therefore requires specialization and managerial stratification. We can try to assure equality to members of society insofar as they are members of society, but not as to their function within society.

Innovation, automation, and inequality

What is the economic relationship between innovation, automation, and inequality?

This is a recurring topic in the discussion of technology and the economy. It comes up when people are worried about a new innovation (such as data science) that threatens their livelihood. It also comes up in discussions of inequality, such as in Piketty’s Capital in the Twenty-First Century.

For technological pessimists, innovation implies automation, and automation suggests the transfer of surplus from many service providers to a technological monopolist providing a substitute service at greater scale (scale being one of the primary benefits of automation).

For Piketty, it’s the spread of innovation in the sense of the education of skilled labor that is primary force that counteracts capitalism’s tendency towards inequality and (he suggests) the implied instability. For the importance Piketty places on this process, he treats it hardly at all in his book.

Whether or not you buy Piketty’s analysis, the preceding discussion indicates how innovation can cut both for and against inequality. When there is innovation in capital goods, this increases inequality. When there is innovation in a kind of skilled technique that can be broadly taught, that decreases inequality by increasing the relative value of labor to capital (which is generally much more concentrated than labor).

I’m a software engineer in the Bay Area and realize that it’s easy to overestimate the importance of software in the economy at large. This is apparently an easy mistake for other people to make as well. Matthew Rognlie, the economist who has been declared Piketty’s latest and greatest challenger, thinks that software is an important new form of capital and draws certain conclusions based on this.

I agree that software is an important form of capital–exactly how important I cannot yet say. One reason why software is an especially interesting kind of capital is that it exists ambiguously as both a capital good and as a skilled technique. While naively one can consider software as an artifact in isolation from its social environment, in the dynamic information economy a piece of software is only as good as the sociotechnical system in which it is embedded. Hence, its value depends both on its affordances as a capital good and its role as an extension of labor technique. It is perhaps easiest to see the latter aspect of software by considering it a form of extended cognition on the part of the software developer. The human capital required to understand, reproduce, and maintain the software is attained by, for example, studying its source code and documentation.

All software is a form of innovation. All software automates something. There has been a lot written about the potential effects of software on inequality through its function in decision-making (for example: Solon Barocas, Andrew D. Selbst, “Big Data’s Disparate Impact” (link).) Much less has been said about the effects of software on inequality through its effects on industrial organization and the labor market. After having my antennas up for this for many reasons, I’ve come to a conclusion about why: it’s because the intersection between those who are concerned about inequality in society and those that can identify well enough with software engineers and other skilled laborers is quite small. As a result there is not a ready audience for this kind of analysis.

However unreceptive society may be to it, I think it’s still worth making the point that we already have a very common and robust compromise in the technology industry that recognizes software’s dual role as a capital good and labor technique. This compromise is open source software. Open source software can exist both as an unalienated extension of its developer’s cognition and as a capital good playing a role in a production process. Human capital tied to the software is liquid between the software’s users. Surplus due to open software innovations goes first to the software users, then second to the ecosystem of developers who sell services around it. Contrast this with the proprietary case, where surplus goes mainly to a singular entity that owns and sells the software rights as a monopolist. The former case is vastly better if one considers societal equality a positive outcome.

This has straightforward policy implications. As an alternative to Piketty’s proposed tax on capital, any policies that encourage open source software are ones that combat societal inequality. This includes procurement policies, which need not increase government spending. On the contrary, if governments procure primarily open software, that should lead to savings over time as their investment leads to a more competitive market for services. Equivalently, R&D funding to open science institutions results in more income equality than equivalent funding provided to private companies.