But I know they lie!

I finished Freakonomics (Levitt and Dubner 2005) this morning. It's a book by a NY Times writer and a relatively famous economist. In general, it's an expansion of the rather news-generating 2003 NY Times magazine article by the same authors that showcased some of Levitt's rather unorthodox (by economic standards) question-asking techniques. He's a creative thinker who uses economic tools to illustrate the peculiarities of just about everything. What was introduced to me as the difference between perceived risk and actual risk in environmental policy circles, he expands on significantly to include knocking out the whole of what he refers to as 'conventional wisdom' and replacing it with economically tested suggestions (or at least starting to do so).

For example, you may have heard of the theory that US violent crime dropped (just as it was really getting going) in the 1990's partially because of the legalization of abortion during the time when that criminal cohort would have been born. Conventional wisdom told us that increased police and better policing strategies were the major contributors to this drop, but Levitt led the economic line that argued the lack of criminal teens resulted from the lack of babies that would be prone to being criminals. That theory has been used (poorly, in my opinion) by a number of racist assholes since it's publication, but Levitt, in classic economic style, only presented the theory and the evidence, he didn't pass judgment on it. His evidence, that is. Which is where he started to lose me. I actually buy his argument on the drop in crime, and several of his other arguments in the book - not only because he is a skilled thinker and theorist and has an understanding and knowledge of economics that is so far beyond my formal academic understanding I shouldn't even be writing this - but also because it's just what I believe, and he's just offering me more evidence. Having said that, he almost blew his whole formal education, great reputation, and my general awe when he commented, early in the book, that conventional wisdom may lie, but the numbers don't.

Not only do numbers lie, but they actual exist in a natural state of lying. It's not intentional. After all, numbers aren't actually sentient and making the choice to lie. I would also argue that the purveyors of numbers are (generally) not intending to lie, but are unable to gather all the information necessary to force the numbers to tell the truth. That's just a factor of the information age, and I don't see a way to improve it. What we can do, is improve how we categorize findings - that is, we can develop (or use one already around) a metric that shows the amount of uncertainty. Something that would be constantly joined to every knowledgeable sentence you utter. In a bugs bunny world, a number from 1-10 (ten indicating that the statement is backed up by multiple well done studies by a variety of people, using a variety of techniques, and one indicating that you were eavesdropping and heard the statement out of context from a person at a bar) would pop up over your head every time you spoke. In essence, it would be a quantification of differing lengths that Pinocchio's nose would grow, based on the egregiousness of the statement. Even so, we'd never actually have a "fact," we'd just know how far off we were from ever having one.

It's not that 'conventional wisdom,' isn't based on the summation and review a number of experiences, but that it's based on a different way of looking at those experiences. Maybe without computers. For that reason, although I really enjoyed the book, it's real benefit to me was to get me thinking about how we view the world and to remind me that the answer comes out of how you ask the question. I think that was a large part of the message the authors were trying to send, I just wish they hadn't also propagated the "numbers don't lie," lie.

Also, with respect to recommending it, it's a fast, humorous and interesting read.

Mommas, don't let your daughters grow up to expect reproductive rights.

I have something to say to Gov. Michael Rounds (South Dakota), and I've chosen this venue to do so. Today, my rambling blog takes a rather strong headed turn, so if you don't like that kind of thing, I'd move onto your next blog now (or scroll down to look at cute Jack pictures reflective of a happier time).

Today, the NYT quotes Gov. Rounds, "In the history of the world, the true test of a civilization is how well people treat the most vulnerable and most helpless in their society. The sponsors and supporters of this bill believe that abortion is wrong because unborn children are the most vulnerable and most helpless persons in our society. I agree with them."

Most vulnerable and helpless in their society, Gov. Rounds? Tell that to a teenager in a back alley abortion clinic. I'm not a fan of abortion as a whole, and I don't think very many people are. I am, however, a fan of giving everyone in this country access to safe medical care and the ability to make choices regarding their own and their families health, wellbeing, and safety. I think the Gov. and I would be on the same side of this issue if it were the freedom to choose to legally own a firearm. How come gun toters can be trusted to make a choice based on the wellbeing of themselves and their families, while women cannot be?

Congratulations Gov. Rounds, you just made the world a little less safe for women and unborn children.

Habit

When I was 12 (or so - we'll just call it 12 for the sake of the story), I was spending the night at my friend Lisa's house. Her Dad was scary in a Red Foreman kind of way - he was old school, and I was too young to realize that most of the time he was messing with me (or I hope he was). Anyway, they had this 3 bedroom house in the suburbs with one bathroom on the second floor where all the bedrooms were, so Lisa and her parents shared. The floor was cold, but Mrs. Rutherford always put 2 towels down so you didn't have to step on the tiles if you wandered in there in the middle of the night. She was from Estonia. Seriously.

Moving on to the reason I bring this up. This morning, I shuffled myself out of bed to the bathroom, popped on the light, and stood in front of the mirror. I realized (with great happiness) that it gets light early enough to avoid turning the light on in the bathroom now (finally)! I turned to hit the light and get ready by the light of the window, but stopped before I got there. I stood there frozen for a minute and then turned back around and put in my contacts. I smiled in the mirror when I was done - I was thinking about Mr. Rutherford.

I was in the bathroom early one winter morning when I was 12 - putting in my contacts in the dark so as not to wake anyone. He came in and flipped on the light -- he looked at me curiously and asked why I was standing there with the light off. I mentioned I didn't want to wake anyone and he nodded at me. Then he told me about how he had to fake his eyesight to get into the Vietnam war (there was a lot of toothbrush gesticulation) and that he put his contacts on in the dark for two tours -- he'd never do it again. I don't remember my reaction at the time, but at 28, I can tell you that I look back on it with a sense of wonder.

I was 12 in 1989 - and in my memory I had just learned about what happened to vets when they came home from Vietnam. There were Vietnam vets and their evidence everywhere -- still in the papers, tv, books...and Mr. Rutherford. I didn't ask him about his time in the war - or, what I was probably wondering, what my 28 year old self thinks I should've asked: Why did you lie to go to Vietnam? Where does that sense of duty come from? What in you drove that?

I remember being afraid of the war - too me, even though it had been over most of my life, I felt like it was a fresh cut maybe because it was a deep one. I still felt that way when I would walk down to the mall and see the POW cart outside the Lincoln Memorial, and sit on the steps watching old Vietnam vets remember their friends. I would wonder if that's what it meant to be a patriot.

Maybe it's just cynicism and romanticism, but it seemed like it was a better question when I was 12 - it wasn't cheapened by being asked every 10 minutes on 20 different news channels. It was personal. It was about the choices you made everyday in your life. It was about being true to your beliefs, even if you knew a great many of your compatriots disagreed. It must be romanticism, because the next thing I wanted to type was: it was about doing what was best for your freedom, not for capitalism.

Either way, when I thought of Mr. Rutherford this morning I remembered a strong man, a quiet man - who stood in the bathroom and vowed to a 12 year old that he wouldn't ever put his contacts in in the dark again. Neither will I -- I've developed a habit I can't break, and I think on a certain level I should thank Mr. Rutherford every day, not only for his conviction (despite my adult self's disagreement) but also for making it a habit for me to remember that time in our history every time I get up.