Richard Thaler won the 2017 Nobel Prize in Economics – or whatever the longer title is, it’s the one Nobel Prize people don’t seem to take all that seriously – for his work in the burgeoning field of behavioral economics, especially on what is now called “choice architecture.” Thaler’s work focuses on how the way we make decisions is affected by the way in which we are presented with choices. I mentioned one of Thaler’s findings in my most recent stick to baseball roundup – the candidate listed first on a ballot receives an average boost of 3.5% in the voting, with the benefit higher in races where all candidates are equally unknown (e.g., there’s no incumbent). You would probably like to think that voters are more rational than that, or at least just not really that irrational, but the data are clear that the order in which names are listed on ballots affects the outcomes. (It came up in that post because Iowa Republicans are trying to rig election outcomes in that state, with one possible move to list Republican candidates first on nearly every ballot in the state.)
Thaler’s first big book, Nudge: Improving Decisions About Health, Wealth, and Happiness, co-authored with Harvard Law School professor Cass Sunstein came out in 2008, and explains the effects of choice architecture while offering numerous policy prescriptions for various real-world problems where giving consumers or voters different choices, or giving them choices in a different order, or even just flipping the wording of certain questions could dramatically alter outcomes. Thaler describes this approach as “libertarian paternalism,” saying that the goal here is not to mandate or restrict choices, but to use subtle ‘nudges’ to push consumers toward decisions that are better for them and for society as a whole. The audiobook is just $4.49 as I write this.
This approach probably mirrors my own beliefs on how governments should craft economic policies, although it doesn’t appear to be in favor with either major party right now. For example, trans fats are pretty clearly bad for your health, and if Americans consume too many trans fats, national expenditures on health care will likely rise as more Americans succumb to heart disease and possibly cancer as well. However, banning trans fats, as New York City has done, is paternalism without liberty – these jurisdictions have decided for consumers that they can’t be trusted to consume only small, safer amounts of trans fats. You can certainly have tiny amounts of trans fats without significantly altering your risk of heart disease, and you may decide for yourself that the small increase in health risk is justified by the improved flavor or texture of products containing trans fats. (For example, pie crusts made with traditional shortening have a better texture than those made with new, trans fat-free shortening. And don’t get me started on Oreos.) That’s your choice to make, even if it potentially harms your health in the long run.
Choice architecture theory says that you can deter people from consuming trans fats or reduce such consumption by how you present information to consumers at the point of purchase. Merely putting trans fat content on nutrition labels is one step – if consumers see that broken out as a separate line item, they may be less likely to purchase the product. Warning labels that trans fats are bad for your heart might also help. Some consumers will consume trans fats anyway, but that is their choice as free citizens. The policy goal is to reduce the public expenditure on health care expenses related to such consumption without infringing on individual choice. There are many such debates in the food policy world, especially when it comes to importing food products from outside the U.S. – the USDA has been trying for years to ban or curtail imports of certain cheeses made from raw milk, because of the low risk that they’ll carry dangerous pathogens, even though the fermentation process discourages the growth of such bugs. (I’m not talking about raw milk itself, which has a different risk profile, and has made a lot of people sick as it’s come back into vogue.) I’ve also run into trouble trying to get products imported from Italy like bottarga and neonata, which are completely safe, but for whatever reason run afoul of U.S. laws on bringing animal products into the country.
Thaler and Sunstein fry bigger fish than neonata in Nudge, examining how choice architecture might improve employee participation in and choices within their retirement accounts, increase participation in organ donation programs, or increase energy conservation. (The last one is almost funny: If you tell people their neighbors are better at conserving energy, then it makes those people reduce their own energy use. South Africa has been using this and similar techniques to try to reduce water consumption in drought-stricken Cape Town. Unfortunately, publicizing “Day Zero” has also hurt the city’s tourism industry.) Thaler distinguishes between Econs, the theoretical, entirely rational actors of traditional economic theory; and Humans, the very real, often irrational people who live in this universe and make inefficient or even dumb choices all the time.
Nudge is enlightening, but unlike most books in this niche, like Thinking, Fast and Slow or The Invisible Gorilla, it probably won’t help you make better choices in your own life. You can become more aware of choice architecture, and maybe you’ll overrule your status quo bias, or will look at the top or bottom shelves in the supermarket instead of what’s at eye level (hint: the retailer charges producers more to place their products at eye level), but the people Nudge is most likely to help seem like the ones least likely to read it: Elected and appointed officials. I’ve mentioned many times how disgusted I was with Arizona’s lack of any kind of energy or water conservation policies. They have more sun than almost any place in the country, but have done little to nothing to encourage solar uptake, although the state’s utility commission may have finally forced some change on the renewable energy front this week. Las Vegas actually pays residents to remove grass lawns and replace them with low-water landscaping; Arizona does nothing of the sort, and charges far too little for water given its scarcity and dwindling supply. Improving choice architecture in that state could improve its environmental policies quickly without infringing on Arizonans’ rights to leave the lights on all night.
Speaking of Thinking, Fast and Slow, its author, Daniel Kahneman, was a guest last week on NPR’s Hidden Brain podcast, and it was both entertaining and illuminating.
Next up: Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism. No reason.
re: Energy conservation, my local electric utility does this. Monthly I get a notice on my consumption, the average consumption in my neighborhood, and also the lowest use in the area. I can definitely say it’s impacted my behavior (my usage was above average, now it’s like a game to get under the average).
Yeah, I get those reports as well. But I wonder how accurate it is, or what they consider to be my neighborhood to compare against. About six years, I was single living alone in my house and I was in the top 10% (they didn’t have the most efficient). Four years ago my now wife and her son moved in with me, and our consumption didn’t change according to those reports. Two years ago, my in-laws moved in with us for nine months out of the year. Now, I’m still in the top 25% with five people in the house, two of which are elderly and home all day. Are they comparing me to housing developments with much bigger houses? Are the people in my neighborhood really this in-efficient? Are the reports themselves still using numbers from a couple years ago? I would consider myself to be a smart energy consumer more than someone who has a fanatical focus on saving whenever I can. I could look at my energy bill, which has gone up by not as much as I would thought (maybe 50% more than when I was single).
You don’t mention if you’ve read his second book, Misbehaving (2016). It’s a great book both as an introduction to concepts in behavioral economics and as a career memoir about his intradisciplinary battles against the assumption of rationality.
I haven’t. It’s on my wish list.
Can’t wait for your review of Arendt’s book. It’s been on my radar for a while, maybe about a year or so, because…oh, I don’t know…
It’s a bit slow going for me, perhaps because I’m so unused to reading this genre. It reminds me a bit of my brief time as a government (political philosophy, really) major in college.
It’s definitely not light reading.
Not to take anything away from Thaler (OK, maybe a little), but he has made a career publishing rather generic articles about finance “puzzles” and “anomalies”. Or more generally, the vast majority of his work has simply examined areas where rational theory fails in practice: the equity premium puzzle, under/overreaction in the market on the part of investors, analysts, etc, the closed-end fund puzzle, the winner’s curse, etc etc etc. What frustrates many PhD financial economists like myself is that his work does not really stand on its own; he has not made a novel contribution like prospect theory (Kahneman and Tversky) or contract theory (Hart and Holmstrom), and his work that relies on existing theories does not push the boundaries of those theories or challenge/test them empirically in such influential ways such as the work done by Fama or Shiller, just to name a few recent Nobel recipients.