Freakonomics – Steven D. Levitt

This was fun, full of interesting information, but strangely unsatisfying as a book. Levitt is the economist who has become notorious for pointing out the statistical link between the legalisation of abortion in the United States, and the drop in crime twenty years later; a good example of the law of unintended consequences which is discussed in detail in the book. Having read Rudolph Giuliani’s autobiography, it was sobering to see the discussion of the drop in crime in New York, in the light of the drop across different cities in the US. The bigger drop in NYC was – according to Levitt – much more a consequence of the rise in police recruitment undertaken by Giuliani’s predecessor David Dinkins than anything which Giuliani himself developed.

The elements on crime were most interesting, especially the research undertaken by one academic ‘on the ground’ in a Chicago drug gang, the principal conclusion being that the organisation of the gang resembled less the Mafia and more McDonalds!

Unfortunately, given the various interesting snippets of information scattered throughout the book, the last chapter was underwhelming, being a discussion of the socio-economics of naming of children. This did have some interest, but compared to the foregoing discussions, not a great deal.

Energy Beyond Oil – Paul Mobbs

If I were to recommend one book on the energy crisis, to a reader in the UK, it would be this one. It is thorough, running through all the aspects of the problem – Peak Oil, viability of alternatives, conservation and consumption. It is almost entirely non-partisan, and steers clear of discussions of foreign policy, concentrating primarily upon the physical constraints that a diminishment of energy represents. It is written from a UK perspective rather than a US or world perspective, which makes it more readable and relevant for a UK resident.

It reads in many ways like a school text-book, and I mean that as a compliment. There are a great number of ‘side boxes’ going into detail about various technical elements, and Mobbs takes great pains to explain all the different terms that he uses.

Of course, the bottom line remains the same however it is explained, and his essential point is expressed pithily: could you cut your energy use by 60%? I found his final discussion of alternative paths quite useful – the ‘burn everything’ model, as opposed to the ‘renewables only’ model. In a hundred years the amount of energy available to the economy from choosing those opposite paths is exactly the same(!) – the difference is that one will cause global warming, exacerbation of income inequality and associated chaos – whilst the other will minimise all those associated problems.

It is clear which way we must go. We just have to summon the spiritual will to walk that path.

Hmmm.

The Cluetrain Manifesto

I came across this from reading Chris Locke’s ‘Mystical Bourgeoisie’ blog (which I read whenever it is updated – I’ll do a post about that separately), and it wasn’t at all what I expected. It was good to read something totally surprising, which was also informative about the business world, and personally clarifying for me.

The Cluetrain Manifesto began as a website developed by Locke and some friends, articulating the way in which the internet was changing the viability of standard business models. In sum, the cluetrain manifesto argues that the internet allows a genuine market to re-emerge, the genuine market being a meeting place of individuals, with a high level of human contact, and consequent structures of trust and authenticity shaping the boundaries of trade.

For example, if you are considering purchasing a digital camera, it is now possible to use internet search engines, not simply to find the cheapest model, or the cheapest outlet for any particular model, but also to discuss the qualities of the different models with other users. In this situation where there is a wealth of available information to the purchaser the producer of any particular digital camera can no longer enjoy what economists call ‘informational asymmetry’ – we can’t be brow-beaten or intimidated by the (apparent) possession of superior knowledge on the part of any particular seller. Often (and this has often been my experience in places like Dixons!) the purchaser knows >much
In this context, a viable business model is one that ‘lowers the barriers’ between the company and the purchaser. There is no benefit to a company in enforcing ‘company speak’ or a ‘line to take’ – all that happens is that the purchaser comes to the reasonable conclusion that this particular company ‘doesn’t have a clue’, and therefore disengages. A company which, on the other hand, allows its own workers to speak directly to customers, without insisting on corporate ‘firewalls’ (whether electronic or social) stands to benefit directly from the high quality human interactions (trust) thus generated.

This might seem overblown – surely the internet is, even now, a minority pursuit, and most companies can safely ignore it, at least for some time to come? This ignores what economists call ‘marginal income’. If a company manufactures widgets, the cost of manufacturing widgets is split between the ‘fixed costs’ (establishment of factory, salaries etc) and the ‘variable costs’ (the material used to make a particular widget). So to make any money at all, the company must first cover all of its fixed costs; once that has been done, then the level of profit accruing from the extra sales of widgets increases radically. Let us assume that a company has to sell 100 widgets to cover its fixed costs in any particular year. If the company sells 110 widgets then those extra ten widgets only have ‘variable costs’ associated with them (the raw material from which the widget is made). That raw material cost is generally a much smaller proportion of the total cost of each widget. What this means is that the ‘marginal widget’ – ie the widget that is sold last – provides a much bigger contribution to overall profits than the first widget; and each extra widget sold is crucial. However, if a small proportion of the company’s market is put off from purchasing widgets due to the company ‘not having a clue’ – ie behaving in a bureaucratic and generally inhuman fashion – then the sale of those marginal widgets becomes immensely problematic. Even if the internet only diminishes sales by a few percent – that few percent can make all the difference to a company between profit and loss. This is why the internet hugely magnifies the effect of informational symmetry between buyer and seller – it is the impact that it has on the margins which levers in huge social and cultural changes at the level of the corporation.

The theme in the book which most struck me, however, was the emphasis upon the human voice. That the traditional market was one in which the human voice made the difference between buying and selling, and where all participants become experts at sniffing out the bullshit. The development of Fordism in all its forms minimised this historic aspect of the economy – giving rise to the corporation in all its alienated and alienating glory – and it is this which the cluetrain manifesto argues is coming to an end. The most important thing for any company now is to be a recognisably human institution, with recognisable human beings working within it. One recent example – the Times newspaper is encouraging its writers to start blogging directly, as with Ruth Gledhill or David Aaranovitch. If there is to be a viable economic model for news organisations, it will surely be along those lines.

This is, of course, why it made so much sense to me – for the blog is indeed the best expression of particular human voices on the ’net, and it is why I enjoy blogging so much. Here I can express my own thoughts, in my own voice, and it is liberating.

So: an excellent book, thoroughly recommended. It is available free, on-line, here.

Anansi Boys – Neil Gaiman


Long time readers of the blog will be aware that I consider Neil Gaiman to be a genius. Anansi Boys is his latest novel, and it follows on from American Gods in its exploration of magical realism and fantasy. It centres on Fat Charlie, a rather sad individual who seems to be fated to a life of boredom and ill luck, until he goes to his (estranged) father’s funeral in Florida. Here he discovers not only that his father was in fact Anansi the spider god, but that he also has a long-lost brother, Spider. Fat Charlie calls his brother back into his life, whereupon Spider proceeds to cause utter chaos, taking over Fat Charlie’s life – including his job and his fiancee… Fat Charlie (who isn’t fat by the way) seeks help from some of the other gods, and gets into deeper waters than he bargained for.

This was great fun, very readable (I stayed up to read it in one sitting – one of the pleasures of reading whilst on holiday) and satisfying as a story. The one caveat I have is that it seemed to be reprising some of the Sandman points in a minor key – Anansi being the weaver of stories in the same way that Morpheus is. The novel doesn’t have the psychological or theological depths that the Sandman sequence attains, but it doesn’t aim that high. It’s simply a good story, enjoyably told. A good place to begin reading Gaiman if you are unfamiliar with his work.

Some notes on Chomsky’s ‘Understanding Power’

I find Chomsky a very interesting and stimulating read. I’m glad he’s around to provide his perspective, and I shall make sure I read more of him in future (I have Deterring Democracy and Manufacturing Consent on my shelves, which are next in line). I think he’s particularly good at exhuming otherwise ignored malefactions by the US Government – thinking of Central America in particular, but it does go more widely. (So as someone who doesn’t like state power in general, he’s good at providing ammunition for the dispelling of some illusions.) I think he’s particularly good on media bias, and with some quibbles (some of which he accepted in UP) I think his “Propaganda model” is basically right.

However I think that he is significantly wrong about capitalism. In particular I think his analysis is a) incoherent and naïve and b) parochial to the US.

a. The incoherence/naivete shows itself in his attribution of motives to businesses. On p391 of my copy he describes the “institutional necessity” that corporations work under as “to the extent that you have a competitive system based on private control over resources, you are forced to maximise short term gain”; on p394, as part of an analysis of how scientific research is corrupted by business patronage, he says “big corporations understand that if they want to keep making profits five years from now, there’d better be some science funded today”. Both of those can’t be true. Now he’s being colloquial in the book, which makes it more readable, but this was just one instance of a prevalent confusion in his perspective, ie that businessmen are rapacious short-term capitalists – except for when they’re rapacious long-term capitalists. I just find his comments on business processes weak, as compared to his foreign policy analysis.

b. More specifically I think that his criticisms have most force when applied to an Anglo-Saxon publicly listed company. I don’t think that they’re applicable to European companies/ social models, and they’re definitely not applicable to Asian companies. The cheibatsu/keiretsu model, for example, is geared around the maintenance or increase of long term market share. That’s very different to the maximisation of the bottom line.

Part of the underlying disagreement I have with his analysis rests upon his anthropology. A strongly left-wing analysis often minimises the role of individual choice, and in particular, it has the logical consequence of being forced to argue that most people (are forced to) choose the wrong things – whereas the anointed are free from such malign influences. I think Chomsky is guilty of this, and this is one of the key progressive/conservative debates. One of the most important disagreements flows from this: I think that he systematically underestimates the importance of individual choice and leadership. So he says “Nobody does anything on their own”, and to the extent that he is describing the importance of social organisation he is
right. But I think there is a necessary role for spokesmen who can articulate a vision which inspires the movement as a whole, and that no amount of organisation can make up for the lack of such a leader. (I don’t think I’m arguing for a Fuhrerprinzip here, just that “without a vision the people perish”).

So: worth reading, but best consumed with added salt.

Robert Winston’s ‘The Story of God’


Robert Winston is a very engaging and likeable man. With his bushy moustache and gently sonorous voice he is a distinct and reassuring presence – an ideal guide for television to use when trying to teach us about developments in science – an area in which he is most impressively qualified, and for which he is a most humane and impressive advocate. At the behest of those same television authorities, however, he is now guiding the viewer into ‘The Story of God’ – and this is a review of the book written to accompany the series. His results in the sphere of religion fall short of the standards he has achieved in the realm of science.

It is proclaimed as a more personal work than previous publications (eg “The human mind and how to make the most of it”) and there are indeed intriguing snippets of his own upbringing to provide interest for the reader. Winston is – at least culturally – an Orthodox Jew, although his sense of God seems lukewarm at best (“I am not an atheist… I am prepared to accept that God may exist” he writes in chapter one) and the book as a whole is compromised by an acceptance of conventional opinion in most of the areas he covers, not least Christianity.

In particular Winston perpetuates the false teaching that Paul was more responsible for the shape of the Christian religion than was Jesus Himself, writing (pp152-153) “In Paul’s letters Jesus was turned into a divine figure, because this would have been more appealing to his Greek audience, who had no pre-existing ideas about what a Messiah was” – one can hear the voice of AN Wilson at this point, whose work on Paul was the most recent transmitter of this mistake. To succeed in writing a book like this, Winston should have become acquainted with some proper New Testament scholarship, rather than the second hand (and rather neurotic) conventional thinking which still so characterises what passes for ‘educated’ discourse in our present society. Bishop Tom Wright’s ‘What St Paul really said’ would have been a good place to start. Winston does make some legitimate strikes against Christianity – not difficult, for clearly there is much in Christian history for which all Christians should repent in dust and ashes – but I suspect that his reliance on dubious sources has obscured for him just how Jewish a faith Christianity is.

In contrast to this, Winston seems to bend over backward to praise Islam, perpetuating the nonsense that Islam has historically been more benign than Christianity. He writes on p193 ‘[Islam] has also, since its earliest days, been a highly tolerant faith’ and later (p227) remarks that the Cathars who fled to the Balkans in the Middle Ages ‘became absorbed into the more tolerant Islam of the area’. Again it would seem that a reliance on conventional thinking has compromised his perspective; to have been effective, Winston should have at least addressed some alternative views on Islam, eg those of Robert Spencer (‘The Politically Incorrect guide to Islam’).

Whilst I enjoyed reading this book, and, indeed, learned many interesting details from it, I couldn’t recommend it from either a Christian point of view, or from a general reading point of view. For a neutral reader there are better overviews of the history available (Karen Armstrong’s ‘The Story of God’ being perhaps the best, and one of the main sources for Winston), whereas for a Christian there are too many errors, omissions and misinterpretations for it to be worth investing time and treasure in. It is disappointing to think that, on the back of Winston’s fame and not inconsiderable charm, this book is likely to sell well, thereby perpetuating various damaging distortions and conventional misrepresentations about Christianity in our society, and inhibiting the spread of the gospel.

Twilight in the desert

Read Matthew Simmons’ book ‘Twilight in the Desert’. Very interesting, although also very technical, and I must confess to skipping some of the middle chapters when he goes through the different oil fields in Saudi Arabia. Unless you’re a geologist I think you can get the gist from reading just one…

But his main point is sobering. The Saudi oil reserves are nothing like as extensive as generally believed, and given the production from the existing oil fields that has taken place, especially over the last twenty years, it is plausible to think that Saudi oil production will begin to decline within the next few years, possibly quite suddenly. Well if that happens, that will be the oil shock to end all oil shocks.

Other links for Simmons work (he’s the lead Investment Banker for the oil industry) are here.

A Generous Orthodoxy

Brian McLaren’s personal manifesto. Very good, though it all seemed non-controversial from where I stand. But the thing that is clearest to me now is that there IS scope for my book, because he is so geared towards the Xn/nearly Xn approach. (he might deny that). Whereas I am absolutely aiming for the non-Xn. Good main points: need to think about – praxis (where I think he is a little misled – almost a liberal!!) and leadership, which is the key thing I need to ponder in my own right.

A new kind of Christianity

Over the last few weeks I have been reading Brian McLaren’s trilogy ‘A new kind of Christian’. It’s very good, stimulating, (for more info have a look here and here) but the disconcerting thing is how close most of the material is to what I have been trying to cover in my own book.

(Later addition: lots of material also here.)

McLaren seems to be writing from a perspective emerging out of fundamentalist evangelicalism; my perspective is the polar opposite – a history of emerging out of a fundamentalist scientism – but the place we end up in is similar. Which raises the question – do I need to write my book at all? Because now, when I want to point people towards an understanding of Christianity which I’m not ashamed of I can say ‘have a look at Brian McLaren’s stuff’. There are interesting links with some of the Radical Orthodoxy material, which I also appreciate, although I’d never send a novice in their direction. Perhaps that’s where my book has something to say – not so much the shift away from the Reformation emphasis, which McLaren covers pretty thoroughly, as towards the high-medieval roots that the RO people identify. Maybe I have one or two other things to add.

I’m going on retreat next week, and I’m going to be taking his ‘A Generous Orthodoxy’ with me, (along with Peterson’s ‘Christ Plays…’). This’ll be one of the main things I’ll be reflecting on.