Hedonic adaption
March 2, 2006
Everyone seems to have opinions about happiness research. Apparently a branch of such research goes under the hapless name of “hedonic adaption.”
EconLog, Happiness Research: Get Used to It, Bryan Caplan: Library of Economics and Liberty
I’m not so sure I want to get used to it, except perhaps for its entertainment value. In my not so humble opinion, any analysis of human happiness that ignores God’s dealing with his creatures is suspect, if for no other reason that God has so much to say about happiness.
One interesting thought in hedonic adaption is the tendency we have to blame others when we deem ourselves to be unhappy.
If and who you blame for bad events matters too. In one study, “[V]ictims of severe accidents who blamed themselves for the accident were coping more successfully eight to twelve months afterward than those who did not, and… victims who blamed other people (as opposed to some nonspecific external cause) displayed especially low coping scores.” This rings so true to me that my head is still spinning. Have I ever felt unhappy for long about something without blaming another person? I’m drawing a blank.
The bottom line is that I’m glad that smart, careful scholars like F&L are hard at work on this topic because I want the answers. Happiness is much too important to be left to the mush-heads in the New Age/Self-Help section.
If you get the answers you are looking for from happiness research, Bryan, what will you do with them? Is this just an intellectual exercise, or do you hope to find a magic pill for unhappiness for yourself or for others? (But I agree wholeheartedly with your last assertion!)
Dave, who is not sure whether it is very important for him to be happy.
The proper study of mankind?
January 2, 2006
Here’s a dandy article to start off the new year. Why do anthropologists strain so hard trying to prove an unprovable theory of evolution? At least it keeps them off the streets.
The proper study of mankind | Economist.com
SEVEN hundred and forty centuries ago, give or take a few, the skies darkened and the Earth caught a cold. Toba, a volcano in Sumatra, had exploded with the sort of eruptive force that convulses the planet only once every few million years. The skies stayed dark for six years, so much dust did the eruption throw into the atmosphere. It was a dismal time to be alive and, if Stanley Ambrose of the University of Illinois is right, the chances were you would be dead soon. In particular, the population of one species, known to modern science as Homo sapiens, plummeted to perhaps 2,000 individuals.
The proverbial Martian, looking at that darkened Earth, would probably have given long odds against these peculiar apes making much impact on the future. True, they had mastered the art of tool-making, but so had several of their contemporaries. True, too, their curious grunts allowed them to collaborate in surprisingly sophisticated ways. But those advantages came at a huge price, for their brains were voracious consumers of energy—a mere 2% of the body’s tissue absorbing 20% of its food intake. An interesting evolutionary experiment, then, but surely a blind alley.
A blind alley it certainly is. I submit that using Genesis 1:1 as a thought-starter not only is more illuminating but avoids strange speculations like the above.
Dave, more comfortable with his own strange speculations.
Gerontocapitalism
December 29, 2005
I love articles like this. I suspect that young, hungry reporters are fascinated by the idea of craggy old men grasping for more and more and staying alive in the process.
Entrepreneurship | Gerontocapitalism | Economist.com
GETTING old is a depressing prospect. If things go well, you may find yourself playing shuffleboard on a cruise ship with some fellow geriatrics; if things go badly, then it is off to the old folks’ home.
So far, so good.
Finally, “greed”—the pursuit of wealth—is obviously good for you: keeping at it is helping to keep these men young. The money, evidently, is not the point. The Kerkorians, Redstones, Icahns and Murdochs have stashed away more billions than they could ever spend on new houses or wives, yet they go on slugging. Maybe it’s the lust for power that drives them to fulfil their evolutionary destiny. Maybe it’s the love of the chase. Either way, it beats shuffleboard.
That it does.
Dave, not that he would know.
Me and my ding-a-ling
December 3, 2005
For more years than I can count I have put in a one or two hour stint each December ringing a bell beside a kettle for the Salvation Army. It’s Saturday afternoon, and my day as arrived once again. I spent my hour musing on this particular brand of Christmas madness. In years past I stood outside the door of Jacks or County Market, bundled up against the wind and ringing my shrill bell hard, hoping to intimidate a friend or two into feeling sorry for me and parting with some cash.
I’m sad to report that I’m just a wimp now. The Army put me inside the enclosed mall with a teeny little bell with a padded clapper so I won’t make an ass of myself and disturb any shoppers. So I tinkle away, trying to keep mean little boys from stuffing chewing gun into the kettle and smiling at cute little girls who are self-consciously putting in a dollar bill or a coin or two. Since they have pulled my fangs, so to speak, I spent my hour docilely observing the passing scene and trying to become part of the woodwork.
Does that mother know that her five-year-old is trying his best to jam her credit card through the ATM? …I’m standing just outside Kriegers Sports Bar, and I can’t quite make out the game on the nearest screen. …Here comes a mother pushing a huge baby carriage, but with no baby in sight. Must be to hold her packages. …I’ve never seen so many bare midriffs and backs and tattoos. …Lots of kids in tee shirts, regardless of the sleet coming down outside. …That man over there in the camo coveralls doesn’t seem too happy. I wonder how long he’s been waiting. …Look at that big guy propelling his wheel chair along! He actually looks like he’s enjoying the outing. …My back is beginning to hurt. Why did they give me this silly red apron to wear - so I’ll match the kettle? …Here comes a little girl who can’t even see over the top of the kettle. She doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do. There is her dotty mother feeding her pennies (pennies, for gosh sake!) She puts in a penny and smiles at me. I smile back and say, “thank you and Merry Christmas.” She puts in another, now warming to her task.
“Thanks. Merry Christmas.” And another. “Merry Christmas, kid.” (This could go on all night.) …ding-a-ling.
My relief shows up and I gratefully hand over my red apron and my wee bell. I shuffle out to the car and find I need a windshield scraper for the first time this winter. Oh, well. Somehow it now seems like Christmas time.
Dave, thinking that bell-ringing isn’t a very efficient way to extract donations.
WSJ.com - Drucker on Everything
November 16, 2005
WSJ.com - Drucker on Everything
For 30 years, the immigrant from Austria graced these pages as a contributor, usually under the heading, “Drucker on Management.” That was a typical piece of modesty, because the more accurate description of his work would have been Drucker on Everything. He was a student of human behavior in all its ways and means, and through his many books and articles he sought to explain how managers could get the most from themselves, their colleagues and their institutions.
I hadn’t thought of Drucker as a philosopher, but that he was.
Dave, trying to find his copy of “The Effective Executive” for a re-read.
Peter Drucker On Leadership
November 16, 2005
Peter Drucker died Friday, November 11, 2005, at age 95. The linked Forbes article was written a year ago.
Peter Drucker On Leadership - Forbes.com
NEW YORK - Peter F. Drucker was born 95 years ago today–can it be possible?–in Vienna. The universally known writer, thinker and lecturer now is nearly deaf and doesn’t get around like he used to. He stopped giving media interviews about a year ago. But in late October, Drucker granted an exception to Forbes.com at the urging of Dr. Rick Warren, the founder and head of the Christian evangelical Saddleback Community Church in Lake Forest, Calif.
Peter F. Drucker at his home in California.The Drucker-Warren relationship may surprise many readers, but it goes back two decades, to when the young minister came to Drucker for advice. Under Drucker’s tutelage, Warren’s own success as a spiritual entrepreneur has been considerable. Saddleback has grown to 15,000 members and has helped start another 60 churches throughout the world. Warren’s 2001 book, The Purpose-Driven Life, is this decade’s best seller with 19.5 million copies sold so far and compiling at the rate of 500,000 per month.
Drucker’s official biography is posted in another article.
During the sixties and seventies I devoured many of Drucker’s books on business management, and his ideas influenced my business career in ways I can only guess at. He obviously had great influence on Rick Warren, which may help explain my ambivalence regarding Warren’s “purpose-driven church.” I am still undecided whether it is a good model for the church or not, but I’ll leave that discussion for another day.
One thing seems certain; Peter Drucker was read and quoted by a wide range of business and institutional leaders, and the impact of his ideas on our culture will remain for a long time. He was a man of the times.
Dave
Peter Drucker, 1909-2005
November 16, 2005
Peter Drucker, 1909-2005
Peter F. Drucker is a writer, teacher, and consultant specializing in strategy and policy for businesses and social sector organizations. He has consulted with many of the world’s largest corporations as well as with nonprofit organizations, small and entrepreneurial companies, and with agencies of the U.S. government. He has also worked with free-world governments such as those of Canada, Japan, and Mexico. He is the author of thirty-one books which have been translated into more than twenty languages. Thirteen books deal with society, economics, and politics; fifteen deal with management. Two of his books are novels, one is autobiographical, and he is a co-author of a book on Japanese painting. He has made four series of educational films based on his management books. He has been an editorial columnist for the Wall Street Journal and a frequent contributor to the Harvard Business Review and other periodicals.
Drucker was born in 1909 in Vienna and was educated there and in England. He took his doctorate in public and international law while working as a newspaper reporter in Frankfurt, Germany. He then worked as an economist for an international bank in London. Drucker came to the United States in 1937. He began his teaching career as professor of politics and philosophy at Bennington College; for more than twenty years he was professor of management at the Graduate Business School of New York University. The recipient of many awards and honorary degrees, Peter Drucker has, since 1971, been Clarke Professor of Social Sciences at Claremont Graduate University. Its Graduate Management School was named after him in 1984.
Peter Drucker has been hailed in the United States and abroad as the seminal thinker, writer, and lecturer on the contemporary organization. In 1997, he was featured on the cover of Forbes magazine under the headline, “Still the Youngest Mind,” and BusinessWeek has called him “the most enduring management thinker of our time.”
On June 21 2002, Dr. Peter Drucker, author of The Effective Executive and Management Challenges for the 21st Century, received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President George W. Bush.
Mr. Drucker has received honorary doctorates from universities around the world. He is Honorary Chairman of the Leader to Leader Institute. He is married and has four children and six grandchildren.
Walking my human
September 21, 2005
On my walk the other day I came across a little dog walking its elderly keeper. I don’t know what kind of dog, but it was one of those squat, broad-shouldered, pug-nosed canines that give the impression of a lot of strength in a small package. The leash to its human was connected to one of those doggie-harnesses designed to allow maximum thrust.
On the upper end of the leash was a poor guy looking very like one who was quite tired of being pulled around by this little black dynamo. I could name him, but I mercifully won’t.
As we exchanged a few pleasantries, me with a relaxed smile and he somewhat breathlessly, I wondered to myself whether he had ever considered a nasty choke collar. I didn’t speculate about the thoughts of the pooch, but there was a smile on its face, the creature.
Dave, thinking perhaps justice was being served.
Uncommon House
September 10, 2005
A stray German bomb destroyed the Commons Chamber of the Palace of Parliament in London on May 10, 1941. The building traced its roots to the year 1099, and it’s loss was a big blow to the embattled Londoners.
In October, 1943, Winston Churchill, then the British Prime Minister and Minister of Defence and in complete charge of his country, decided to rebuild the destroyed House of Commons. He did it in a typical Churchillian manner. In his memoirs he says,
I had the power at this moment to shape things in a way that would last. Supported by my colleagues, mostly old Parliamentarians, and with Mr. Atlee’s cordial aid, I sought to re-establish for what well may be a long period the two great principles on which the British House of Commons stands in its physical aspect. The first is that it must be oblong, and not semicircular, and the second that it must only be big enough to give seats to about two-thirds of its Members. As this argument has long surprised foreigners, I record it here.
I bet you were surprised, you foreigner, you.
Why oblong?
The semicircular assembly, which appeals to political theorists, enables every individual or every group to move around the centre, adopting various shades of pink according as the weather changes. …It is easy for an individual to move through those insensible gradations from Left to Right, but the act of crossing the Floor is one which requires serious consideration. …Logic is a poor guide compared with custom. Logic, which has created in so many countries semicircular assemblies with buildings that give to every member not only a seat to sit in, but often a desk to write at, with a lid to bang, has proved fatal to Parliamentary government as we know it here in its home and in the land of its birth.
Why too small for all its Members?
If the House is big enough to contain all its Members, nine-tenths of its debates will be conducted in the depressing atmosphere of an almost empty or half-empty chamber. The essence of good House of Commons speaking is the conversational style, the facility for quick, informal interruptions and interchanges. …and there should be on great occasions a sense of crowd and urgency.
I just have to admire a leader who not only can propose uncommon action but has the political skill to make it happen. Winston S. Churchill was certainly that!
Dave
Winston S. Churchill (1874-1965)
September 6, 2005
As many others have observed, some periods of history seem to produce more than their share of bigger-than-life characters. World War II produced a bumper crop of such men, and Winston S. Churchill towered over all of them. For an incredibly long time, from 1938 through 1955, Churchill was a giant on the world scene.
This summer I have been avidly reading the six massive volumes comprising Churchill’s masterpiece memoir, The Second World War. Most of the text consists of hundreds of “minutes” (memos) written as he and the likes of Franklin Roosevelt, Josef Stalin, and Charles de Gaulle, dealt with world crises. Churchill pretty much lets the words exchanged between them tell the story with little interpretation on his part.
I admire the way he ordered his personal life. He had a life-simplification garment that he called his “zip,” a one piece zip-up coverall that he wore on many informal and travel occasions. During the English blitz, this “siren suit” became his trade-mark.
He also developed a way of conserving energy that served him well as he got older and the demands on him grew. He learned to pop into bed and sleep soundly for an hour or two in the early afternoon, and this kept him going at top form until well past midnight. He then slept soundly again for the rest of the night.
No historian not personally involved with the history he is writing about can approach the sense of immediacy and coherency achieved by Churchill in his war memoirs.
Dave, bleary-eyed but still reading
