I’ve promised myself I’d write something about ‘nudging’ on
here, so here goes. It’s really only
some initial thoughts, and it’s more about the principle than the detail, but
hopefully that will come across and be interesting.
I’ve written here before
about how nudging isn’t necessarily new (look at James Kneale’s work on the
interest during the nineteenth century in governing the shape and design of
pubs), and as part of this how it’s consistent with ideas of neoliberalism. Sometime in the future I’d also quite like to
write about how it doesn’t really mark anything of a ‘third way’ between
intervention and laissez-faire, but that’s not too dissimilar an argument to
the one about neoliberalism.
What I want to talk about here is how I see a
misunderstanding of human rationality and desires at the heart of the ‘nudging’
approach.
Underlying the idea of nudging as outlined by Thaler
and Sunstein and those analysing their work (like Marteau and colleagues) is
the understanding that two contrasting systems drive human behaviour. One is a reflective, goal-oriented system;
the other an automatic, unconscious system based on emotions/affect. I found this idea to be explained clearly and
simply by Dan Gardner in his book Risk. He uses the terms Head and Gut to describe
the two systems.
Thaler and Sunstein relate this duality to classical versus
behavioural economics. Classical
economics, they say, treated people as if they only used Head – as perfectly
rational, calculating individuals with access to perfect information and plenty
of time to think. In reality, we humans
are flawed and use Gut quite a lot – often to ill effect. Behavioural economics is seen as an
improvement on classical economics, as it accepts that people are irrational,
but continues to seek to model them. As
Jones and colleagues put it neatly, it seeks to render them ‘predictably
irrational’.*
Thaler and Sunstein then take these insights as to how
people behave irrationally in order to change their actions so that they are
‘rational’.
However, in my view this is slightly to misunderstand the
motivation of classical economics. It is
not concerned with thinking about people’s inner monologues; it is concerned
with modelling how they actually behave.
This is a common theme in social research, perhaps most vociferously put
forward by David
Silverman. (This is not to say that
at other times we shouldn’t be concerned as much with what people say as what
they do. I would of course humbly
suggest that my work on drinking and distinction, and its implications for
alcohol policy, is a case in point…)
In classical economics we don’t always have to worry whether
someone ‘really’ wants the chocolate bar in the long run; we’re more concerned
with how much they’re prepared to pay for it in practice when they get to the
checkout counter. That is, whether it’s
Head or Gut, the point is modelling the decision and what this tells us about
people’s expressed preferences. This decision can’t really be ‘irrational’ in
any meaningful sense, from this perspective; it’s merely expressing the way
this person has (unconsciously) balanced present pleasure with future health
and wealth. That is, there isn’t really
a reason to see the person as ‘predictably irrational’ unless we’re concerned
with understanding the disjuncture between what they say and what they do.
This is revealing of the ‘nudging’ perspective on
rationality. Rather than assuming, like
conservative philosophers such as Michael
Oakeshott and John
Gray, that humans are incorrigibly irrational, Thaler and Sunstein want to
re-mould them as more rational.
Oakeshott and Gray would consider this not just a vain, but
a dangerous aspiration. I don’t want to
get into that argument now (though I have some sympathies with it), apart from
to note that ‘rationality’ as an aspiration can be problematic for policymakers
as they often see rationality (like Thaler and Sunstein) as decided by final
outcomes rather than the process of thinking.
Smoking or drinking to drunkenness are not by definition irrational; they are only irrational if they don’t
reflect how a person ‘really’ values their future health compared to their
current pleasure.
This brings us round to this idea of ‘real’ preferences
again.** Thaler and Sunstein are
concerned to demonstrate the falsity of the (straw man) claim that ‘almost all
people, almost all of the time, make choices that are in their best interest or
at the very least are better than the choices that would be made by someone
else’.
For this statement to make any sense, it seems to me that we
first need to understand what ‘best’ choices are. Mill
might make the suggestion that there are many different ways of living, and any
individual with a ‘tolerable’ amount of common sense should be trusted to make
their own choices. Thaler and Sunstein
don’t agree, as shown by their analogy of making life choices: a novice playing
an experienced player at chess.
Not only are the aims of chess clear (to win), but the rules
are also laid down formally. We can
imagine that different people might have different rules (or conventions or
scruples) for going through life, but more importantly we certainly don’t agree
on what the ‘aim’ of it all is. The
analogy is bizarre – who is a grand master at living? Can we all agree who that might be?
One might generously assume that they mean something more
like every individual is playing their own ‘game of life’, with their own aim
and rules. However, there remains this
assumption that even for an individual there is a clear goal. This is clear from the writings of the LSE
philosopher Luc
Bovens.
Bovens is very much in favour of nudges – he goes so far as
to say that we should be considering ‘whatever
works’ and these could well work so we should not be concerned about
‘ideological commitments to . . . human agency’, for example. This raises important questions about how we
might assess whether something ‘works’, which I’ll come back to in a later
post, but for the moment I want to think about how Bovens judges whether or not
nudges are legitimate.
Rather than some idea of preserving liberty, or an
individual’s personal choices, he takes Thaler and Sunstein’s approach that we
should be trying to help people make choices that are ‘better’ than the ones
they make for themselves, and judges that an intervention is reasonable so long
as it maintains a person’s ‘preference
structure’. This is defined as a
consistent, coherent ‘conception of the good’.
Note that Bovens is not suggesting we do actually behave in
accordance with such a structure; the whole reason we need to be ‘nudged’ is
that we don’t. As he puts it, ‘We choose
on the background of a fragmented self’.
The aim of nudging is to put us together into a coherent self.
To me it seems completely impractical that we could work out
what someone’s putative ‘preference structure’ is (what actions should be
discounted as mistakes, and what as reflecting the underlying ‘reality’?), but
the issue isn’t one of practice but theory.
That is, I don’t believe this is even theoretically possible – still
less desirable.
As
John Gray suggests, there are many competing desires, identities and
communities within societies – and indeed within individuals themselves – and no
single rational solution to balance them up.
Moreover, these desires aren’t consistent over time and they won’t all
reflect a coherent view.
Given that the most outstanding philosophers across the ages
have struggled to put forward a coherent, consistent worldview, it seems
unlikely that the rest of us will have mastered one in our everyday lives. What is the singly expressed ‘aim’ of your
life, by which your ‘rationality’ can be judged? How can intoxication be weighed against
health; or reading against playing football; or cake against cheese? Which should I be ‘nudged’ towards?
Although Thaler and Sunstein mock classical economists with
their homo economicus, they are
actually lamenting the nature of the human condition – they would like people
to be more like this fiction. Nudge is a manual for how to deal with
the fact that humans make ‘bad’ decisions – defined as those they wouldn’t make
‘if they had paid full attention and possessed complete information, unlimited
cognitive abilities, and complete self-control.’ As they would be the first to point out, this
calculating ideal doesn’t sound like a human – and I’m not sure I would want to
live in a world where people behaved like this, even if it were only through
‘nudges’ from on high. Is a world led
solely by the Head an attractive vision?
(And whose Head?) To err is
human.
* I’m not sure this
phrase is theirs originally, but it’s through their work that I’ve come across
it.
** This is
particularly interesting in the field of addiction. Thaler and Sunstein, like many others, cite
the example of smoking, and how the ‘overwhelming’ majority of people want to
quit. This is fascinating for me, as in discussions
of
addiction and treatment reference is often made to the idea that a person
needs to have a ‘genuine’ desire
and commitment to change, and this is quite different from simply stating that
one would like to quit (particularly in a world where addiction is
stigmatised).
Although I’ve not
referenced them directly, my thinking on nudging has probably been coloured by
reading Amir
& Lobel, Burgess,
Goodwin,
Grüne-Yanoff
and Selinger
& Whyte.
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