Posner on Oil Dependence

Richard Posner is right to say high gas prices aren’t necessarily a bad thing. High prices provide a market signal that induces consumers to curb their consumption, producers to expand supplies, and entrepreneurs and engineers to seek out potential oil-substitutes. That said, I couldn’t let this passage go by without comment:

Furthermore, a large part of the world's oil supply comes from nations such as Venezuela, Nigeria, Iraq, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Russia that are actually or potentially unstable, hostile to the United States, or both, and it would be prudent to reduce our dependence on such suppliers.

Posner here invokes the old shibboleth of dependence on foreign oil. The problem, as I’ve noted before [second post contains a correction to the first], is that there’s more than one kind of dependence. In one sense, we are dependent on foreign oil just because we’re dependent on oil. A reduction in demand for oil would reduce this kind of dependence. But in another sense, we are dependent on foreign oil because, and to the extent that, whatever amount of oil we consume comes disproportionately from other countries. To be more precise, since oil is sold on a world market, the real question is not the origin of the particular barrels we get, but what percentage of the world’s oil supply comes from hostile or unreliable producers. And it turns out that this form of dependence could actually increase as a result of a reduction in demand for oil. Why? Posner gives the reason himself, without seeming to recognize its significance:

Just as an increase in demand will cause higher-cost oil to be produced -- oil that would not have been economical to produce when the market price was lower -- so a reduction in demand will cause that higher-cost oil to be withdrawn from the market and so the average price of oil will fall. In effect, income of the producing nations will be transferred to the consuming nations in the form of gasoline taxes imposed by those nations.

In other words, if the price of oil fell, the highest-cost oil producers would drop out of the market while the lowest-cost oil producers would stay in. And who are the lowest-cost oil producers? Saudi Arabia, Venezuela and Nigeria (when they’re not having riots and strikes), Iran and Iraq (when they’re not having civil wars), etc. The result? Although we would be less dependent on oil, we’d also be more dependent on unstable and/or hostile countries to meet our remaining oil needs.

So which form of dependence matters? I think probably both. Posner’s right to suggest that reduced demand (possibly induced by a gas tax) would cut into the profits of the foreign producers. That’s a good thing if, say, you’re concerned with depriving terrorists of funds. On the other hand, if you’re worried about the vulnerability of our economy to sudden price shocks brought on by civil strife, war, geopolitical tensions, and so on, then you might prefer higher prices as a form of insurance that keeps the higher-cost but more reliable producers in business. Trade-offs are tough like that.

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Deontology Meets the Mere Addition Paradox

One objection to utilitarianism is its difficulty in dealing with questions of population change. For example, is it desirable to add more people to a population if the new additions have lives that are (a) worth living but (b) not quite as good as the lives of those already living? The larger population would have higher total utility but lower average utility. (Set aside concerns about negative externalities from population growth. Holding the happiness of the already-living sharpens the philosophical question.)

Derek Parfit’s “Mere Addition Paradox” (MAP) shows how both total and average utilitarianism can lead to bizarre and (seemingly) unpalatable conclusions. This article by Kai Chan has the best explanation of the MAP I’ve found, all in the first three pages. Here’s my quickie explanation: Suppose you have an existing population with relatively high utility. Someone proposes an addition like that described above (new people with lives that are worth living but below the previous average). Should we favor the proposal? The obvious answer seems to be “yes,” or at least “there’s no reason not to.” Adopting average rather than total utilitarianism could allow you to resist this conclusion – but that’s precisely what’s bizarre about average utilitarianism. So the new group is added on. Once those people are in existence, someone proposes a slight redistribution of resources that will make the new people better off and the old people worse off, with an overall net positive result (the utility gains exceed the utility losses). This proposal, too, is difficult to resist. But now consider the addition of yet another group of new people, with lives worth living but less satisfying than the lives of those who already exist. Repeat until you have a very large population of people with lives barely worth living. This is what Parfit calls the “repugnant conclusion.”

Now, what I’m wondering is whether an analytically similar problem might afflict some deontologists (e.g., natural rights theorists) who think they’ve managed to dodge the problems of utilitarianism. Say you have a population of people whose rights are respected perfectly. And suppose the population could be increased through the addition of a new group of people whose rights are mostly respected, albeit with the occasional violation. On what grounds could the deontologist resist the addition of this group? These people would, presumably, prefer to live despite the occasional rights violation. And in any case, if the deontologist believes in a right of procreation (or opposes any intervention to stop procreation), then he would have to allow the entrance of the new group.

Next step: Once we have the larger population, suppose we have the opportunity, via some change in policy, to redistribute the rights violations so that the new group has fewer rights violation, the older group has more, and the total number and severity of rights violations has fallen. Now, here the deontologist might object: right violations are not interpersonally comparable. The lesser violation of the rights of some does not compensate for the greater violations of the rights of others. But I don’t think this position will withstand scrutiny. The deontologist would have to resist changes in enforcement policy that would, say, prevent 1000 forcible rapes while allowing one more act of shoplifting. Or, at a minimum, he would have to shrug his shoulders. Similarly, the deontologists would have to resist (or at least be indifferent to) any change in the form of government that would result in lesser protection of any person’s rights. In practice, I don’t believe deontologists actually think that way. (Notice, for example, the many deontologist anarcho-capitalists who favor abolishing the state in favor of private protection agencies, even though such a change would assuredly cause some people’s rights to be better protected while at least a few others’ rights suffered.) So I think that reasonable deontologists would have to accept the proposed redistribution in rights protection.

Now repeat the process. The endpoint will be a society with the maximum number of people that could be sustained at some minimal level of rights protection.

The problem, for both utilitarians and deontologists, results from an intransitivity driven by the distinction between actual and potential persons. For both groups, it seems strange to regard non-existent people as having morally relevant interests (for the utilitarians) or inherent moral rights (for the deontologists). Yet once such people do exist, their interests and/or rights suddenly matter. For utilitarians, that means weighing their interests against those of other real people. For deontologists, it means respecting and protecting their rights. That might seem to require no sacrifice of the rights of others – until we recognize that rights protection is costly, and therefore we can’t avoid trade-offs in rights protection. Within a given regime, the trade-off is felt in the allocation of law enforcement resources. Across regimes, the trade-off is felt in the choice of which regime to favor. To make the problem yet more vexing, the people who exist under each regime will differ (because, at a minimum, sensitive dependence on initial conditions means that different sperm will meet different ova).

For related thoughts about deontology versus consequentialism, see my post on lexicographic orderings.

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My New Favorite Expression

In the latest volume of the Flashman chronicles (not as good as previous installments, but still entertaining enough), a drunken Abyssinian despot utters the phrase, “Man abat?” The accompanying footnote helpfully explains:

“Man abat?” lit. “Who’s your father?” seems to have been an Abyssinian catchphrase used as a facetious greeting, not unlike “What’s up?” or “What’s cooking?”

Well, that’s it then. “Who’s your father?” is now my new standard greeting – or at least it will be, once I’ve gotten accustomed to saying it in a casual tone.

On a related note, I’ve wondered occasionally about the English words for children born out of wedlock. ‘Illegitimate’ is deemed the polite, politically correct substitute for the insulting ‘bastard.’ But considering the words’ origins, maybe it should be the other way around. ‘Illegimate,’ from the Latin, means ‘not legal’ or ‘not right’ or ‘not appropriate.’ On the other hand, ‘bastard’ apparently comes from the Old French for ‘packsaddle,’ a reference to travelers’ use of packsaddles as makeshift beds. So ‘illegitimate’ indicates a derogatory judgment, whereas ‘bastard’ merely describes a mode of conception. Doesn't it seem like the more descriptive, less judgmental term would be preferred?

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Unintended Consequences, Chinese Divorce Edition

In matters of business, economic incentives matter. But in matters of love and marriage, it’s not about the incentives, it’s all about the cultural norms. Right? Well…

Authorities in China, to support the rapid industrialization of Chongqing, are confiscating large tracts of rural land nearby. You think eminent domain abuse is bad in the U.S.? Imagine what it’s like in a country where the government officially owns all the land in the first place. As compensation for the land they’ve lost, the government is offering the displaced villagers apartments in newly constructed housing projects. The result? A massive surge in the divorce rate:

As they [the villagers] understood the compensation deal, each married couple would receive a small two-bedroom apartment in return for their land and farmhouse. Those divorced would get a one-bedroom apartment each. The villagers figured that would be a better deal, that they could live in one apartment and make a little extra income from selling or renting out the extra one.

So, whereas farmers elsewhere took to the streets with their picks and plows demanding higher compensation in protests seen across the Chinese countryside, the folks in Renhe took a gamble with their marriages.

“Divorced? How could I not be divorced? It's now a local custom!” Yan [Shihai] said as he sat on the stoop outside his new apartment building with a handful of neighbors — all divorced, of course. “Even if we hate it, we have to do it. Divorce gives us a chance to sit on a longer bench. Don't get divorced, and you sit on a small stool or in the dirt.”

For the whole sad chain of unintended consequences, read the whole thing.

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Kai, Musical Genius

A few mornings ago, waiting for Kai to finish his breakfast, I sat down with my acoustic guitar and practiced a few tunes. To my chagrin, Kai stopped eating and started fiddling around with his fingers.

"Why aren't you eating your breakfast?" I asked.

"I'm playing the piano," he explained.

I foresee great musical things from that boy—much as I do his sister, A.J. I don't peg Kai's particular gifts on his still-unproven piano playing, however. Rather, I credit his musical taste. Witness the evidence:

I asked Kai to not forget about his breakfast and went back to playing. I soon started riffing around some new chord progressions, and worked up the core of a twee song. Kai listened patiently. As we later prepared to leave the house, I returned to the tune and sang trial lyrics over and over the same, somewhat oversweet melody.

I love wakin' to another day in paradise.
A swell's comin' in; the weather is nice.
I love welcomin' another day to paradise . . . .

"Stop singing that, Daddy," Kai stated.

"You don't like it?" I asked him.

"No. You sing it too much," he explained.

I meekly stopped, not wanting to bruise Kai's delicate sensibilities. I didn't give up on the tune, though. I worked up some more lyrics. D politely informed me that they doubled up on the entendres a bit heavily, so I toned down the wink-wink stuff. (I think Kai gets his good taste from her.) And I have pretty well ironed out the lead guitar. Check it out in MP3 or AIFF format. I call it "Paradise." It runs only about a minute and a half, so you won't suffer much. Rest assured, I don't sing; it's just a buzzy guitar.

You other critics out there, please take note: Yeah, I know I need a drummer. Think of those pauses as dramatic devices (rather than as mad scrambles for the new fingerings.) And, yeah, it runs a little rough. Cuts the treacle, I figure.

[NB: Since posting the above, I've replaced the recording with a later, arguably better one.]

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