Utilitarian blindness
A couple of nights ago, my wife blindsided me while I was eating with a question about what I thought of the recent decision by Federal Judge James Robertson that directed the Treasury Department to make our money blind-accessible (NY Times). The truth was that other than recognizing the obvious problem, I had not thought about the ruling because I had not yet had a chance to read about it and should have said so. The only thing I had seen or heard was a CBS or CNN radio report which began with a detailed discussion of the number of ancillary changes required: cash registers, change machines, and even wallets are all designed around the existing bills and must change. Thinking aloud, I began with that and a recent debate on MarginalRevolution (linked below) and the "discussion" went downhill.
Later, upon reflecting on the problem, it occurred to me that a solution so simple exists that you could conceivably retrofit existing bills by hand. Contrary to popular belief, US money is not only not low tech as the judge and others have implied, but is possibly among the most high tech money around in an attempt to thwart counterfeiters 'round the world. For example, there is a stripe in each bill (not the one you can see) visible only to short wave infrared devices - though little good that does you and me. So of course the judge and everyone else have jumped in with ideas to insert other high tech features to help the blind, even though these have a number of disadvantages - bumps wear, holes and varied edges tear, and I really don't get how the watermarks in Japanese bills help the blind.
I propose this simple modification to the currency: simply cut 1, 2, 3, or 4 corners off each bill to designate its denomination. The $100 bill will remain the same, the $50 will have one corner removed, the $20 and $10 two corners (one along the top edge, the other along the side), the $5 three corners, and the $1 all four. If you don't like the fact that a $50 can be made into either a 20 or 10 (though who would do it?), the diagonal corner arrangement is also available. We could do it with all the money we have on hand right now and a pair of scissors. It won't wear out, it is against the counterfeiter's interest to change one into another (because more cuts means lower denomination), they will still fit in cash registers and wallets, and they will still work in change machines. The cost to the Treasury to change their die cutters is minimal.
But this is quite beside the point of the title of this post, in case you're keeping track. The problem that I have with my initial reaction to this was one guided by simple utilitarianism: determining whether a thing is worth doing simply on the basis of whether the benefit is greater than the cost. The problem is that the benefits are localized while the costs are generalized, making it difficult to assess them. As my wife pointed out - correctly, I might add - there are two problems with this approach: first, that it paralyzes anyone trying to do it because you can't add up the costs and benefits in any reasonable manner, and second, because that problem can always be used as an excuse to inaction.
If you could map out where such decisions lie on a chart, there would be an area of high cost and low benefit where you would tend to avoid those decisions, and another area of high benefit and low cost where you would tend towards accepting those decisions at face value. This logic is not isolated to libertarians - it is accepted by everyone on the political spectrum because they can always argue up the benefits and downplay the costs of their favorite programs, and because the benefits are frequently easily seen while the costs are frequently hidden. There is, unfortunately, a no-man's land out in the middle where it is not clear whether costs and benefits would govern the decision. Parenthetically, there is finally an area of what I would call special cases, where the costs and benefits are both low; in this area, it is easier to make such decisions if the people involved are few and the decisions local. This is an argument for local governance, for human scale, for the kind of organization described in A Pattern Language.
I would go further and argue that my initial reaction was flat wrong, misguided by the radio story I heard. Yes, the costs to converting all of the cash registers and money machines would be enormous; however, they would be one-time expenses. The benefits to blind people would continue year after year, eventually overwhelming the costs. On the other hand, those of you who immediately applaud this decision should step back and consider the effect of this and thousands of others just like it: Wal-Mart and other giant retailers can more easily absorb these one-time expenses and large manufacturers can more easily design and introduce the needed machinery than can any Mom-and-Pop store or small businessman scratching a living on vending machines. Oh well, too bad for them, huh? The need of some people outweighs the need of a different set of people, so they just need to pick better needs. But don't be surprised when giant corporations happen to succeed in an environment that favors giant corporations, even if that was not the intent of people who loathe giant corporations and who merely wanted to help the blind.
But my wife's other point is an even stronger one. There are finite resources and infinite needs, it is true, so there will always be some need to make cost/benefit evaluations. However, if you fall back on the fact that they are difficult to make, and probably inconclusive, you may have a tendency to not make those decisions on the justification that there are other, more clear-cut actions requiring attention and resources. Disenfranchised people are unable to persuasively argue up their benefits or argue down the costs to others. In 1864, after winning his re-election, Lincoln proposed making low-interest loans to the South to repay them for the destruction wrought by Federal troops: his cabinet responded negatively since there was still a war on. Later, after an initial period of rebuilding, it just wasn't important enough to make good on the "40 acres and a mule" promise. We had bigger fish to fry in the 19th century than enfranchising women. And so on. This is an excuse that is too easy to make.
[On the other hand, if you don't acknowledge the problem of finite resources, you quickly find yourself in a budget situation like we had in the 1980s and today: let's try to please everyone and fully fund everything and bill future taxpayers (too bad for them, huh?).]
In this case, however, I favor the argument that I make two paragraphs above regarding costs (one time expense vs. constant future benefits). I would also say that the government, which spends $400 million on the currency every year anyhow, has an obligation to make reasonable changes in their design to support the blind in addition to those design features that prevent counterfeit. The judge was acting within the law (ADA), so this is not judicial activism (which I would define as acting outside the law and the constitution). I am nevertheless concerned about the balance between large and small companies to absorb the costs, and would recommend that the Treasury do what it can to accommodate their concerns - but I won't hold my breath.
I regret that I frequently fall back on utilitarian reasoning, even though I don't consider myself to be a utilitarian. Utilitarian reasoning says that you might sacrifice one person if it would add seconds to the life of billions, in an extreme (and nonexistent) case. I could not accept that, and apparently neither can other people, but real world examples of less clear-cut situations exist everywhere (Alex Tabarrok cites the case of coal miners, who risk their lives every day so that we might be marginally better off in response to the previous link), and people including me don't seem to have a problem with those. You can either approach each of these situations one at a time (situational ethics or consequentialism, where the ends justifies the means), or adopt rigid dogmatic rules (never do X, even if it would be better if you did), or find some more clever road between them (rule consequentialism? negative consequentialism? See my kindergarten summary of these here). I would like to shake this utilitarian blindness, but seem unable to find a consistent means of reasoning to replace it. Note that both of the arguments above for the decision are utilitarian in nature.
Later, upon reflecting on the problem, it occurred to me that a solution so simple exists that you could conceivably retrofit existing bills by hand. Contrary to popular belief, US money is not only not low tech as the judge and others have implied, but is possibly among the most high tech money around in an attempt to thwart counterfeiters 'round the world. For example, there is a stripe in each bill (not the one you can see) visible only to short wave infrared devices - though little good that does you and me. So of course the judge and everyone else have jumped in with ideas to insert other high tech features to help the blind, even though these have a number of disadvantages - bumps wear, holes and varied edges tear, and I really don't get how the watermarks in Japanese bills help the blind.
I propose this simple modification to the currency: simply cut 1, 2, 3, or 4 corners off each bill to designate its denomination. The $100 bill will remain the same, the $50 will have one corner removed, the $20 and $10 two corners (one along the top edge, the other along the side), the $5 three corners, and the $1 all four. If you don't like the fact that a $50 can be made into either a 20 or 10 (though who would do it?), the diagonal corner arrangement is also available. We could do it with all the money we have on hand right now and a pair of scissors. It won't wear out, it is against the counterfeiter's interest to change one into another (because more cuts means lower denomination), they will still fit in cash registers and wallets, and they will still work in change machines. The cost to the Treasury to change their die cutters is minimal.
But this is quite beside the point of the title of this post, in case you're keeping track. The problem that I have with my initial reaction to this was one guided by simple utilitarianism: determining whether a thing is worth doing simply on the basis of whether the benefit is greater than the cost. The problem is that the benefits are localized while the costs are generalized, making it difficult to assess them. As my wife pointed out - correctly, I might add - there are two problems with this approach: first, that it paralyzes anyone trying to do it because you can't add up the costs and benefits in any reasonable manner, and second, because that problem can always be used as an excuse to inaction.
If you could map out where such decisions lie on a chart, there would be an area of high cost and low benefit where you would tend to avoid those decisions, and another area of high benefit and low cost where you would tend towards accepting those decisions at face value. This logic is not isolated to libertarians - it is accepted by everyone on the political spectrum because they can always argue up the benefits and downplay the costs of their favorite programs, and because the benefits are frequently easily seen while the costs are frequently hidden. There is, unfortunately, a no-man's land out in the middle where it is not clear whether costs and benefits would govern the decision. Parenthetically, there is finally an area of what I would call special cases, where the costs and benefits are both low; in this area, it is easier to make such decisions if the people involved are few and the decisions local. This is an argument for local governance, for human scale, for the kind of organization described in A Pattern Language.
I would go further and argue that my initial reaction was flat wrong, misguided by the radio story I heard. Yes, the costs to converting all of the cash registers and money machines would be enormous; however, they would be one-time expenses. The benefits to blind people would continue year after year, eventually overwhelming the costs. On the other hand, those of you who immediately applaud this decision should step back and consider the effect of this and thousands of others just like it: Wal-Mart and other giant retailers can more easily absorb these one-time expenses and large manufacturers can more easily design and introduce the needed machinery than can any Mom-and-Pop store or small businessman scratching a living on vending machines. Oh well, too bad for them, huh? The need of some people outweighs the need of a different set of people, so they just need to pick better needs. But don't be surprised when giant corporations happen to succeed in an environment that favors giant corporations, even if that was not the intent of people who loathe giant corporations and who merely wanted to help the blind.
But my wife's other point is an even stronger one. There are finite resources and infinite needs, it is true, so there will always be some need to make cost/benefit evaluations. However, if you fall back on the fact that they are difficult to make, and probably inconclusive, you may have a tendency to not make those decisions on the justification that there are other, more clear-cut actions requiring attention and resources. Disenfranchised people are unable to persuasively argue up their benefits or argue down the costs to others. In 1864, after winning his re-election, Lincoln proposed making low-interest loans to the South to repay them for the destruction wrought by Federal troops: his cabinet responded negatively since there was still a war on. Later, after an initial period of rebuilding, it just wasn't important enough to make good on the "40 acres and a mule" promise. We had bigger fish to fry in the 19th century than enfranchising women. And so on. This is an excuse that is too easy to make.
[On the other hand, if you don't acknowledge the problem of finite resources, you quickly find yourself in a budget situation like we had in the 1980s and today: let's try to please everyone and fully fund everything and bill future taxpayers (too bad for them, huh?).]
In this case, however, I favor the argument that I make two paragraphs above regarding costs (one time expense vs. constant future benefits). I would also say that the government, which spends $400 million on the currency every year anyhow, has an obligation to make reasonable changes in their design to support the blind in addition to those design features that prevent counterfeit. The judge was acting within the law (ADA), so this is not judicial activism (which I would define as acting outside the law and the constitution). I am nevertheless concerned about the balance between large and small companies to absorb the costs, and would recommend that the Treasury do what it can to accommodate their concerns - but I won't hold my breath.
I regret that I frequently fall back on utilitarian reasoning, even though I don't consider myself to be a utilitarian. Utilitarian reasoning says that you might sacrifice one person if it would add seconds to the life of billions, in an extreme (and nonexistent) case. I could not accept that, and apparently neither can other people, but real world examples of less clear-cut situations exist everywhere (Alex Tabarrok cites the case of coal miners, who risk their lives every day so that we might be marginally better off in response to the previous link), and people including me don't seem to have a problem with those. You can either approach each of these situations one at a time (situational ethics or consequentialism, where the ends justifies the means), or adopt rigid dogmatic rules (never do X, even if it would be better if you did), or find some more clever road between them (rule consequentialism? negative consequentialism? See my kindergarten summary of these here). I would like to shake this utilitarian blindness, but seem unable to find a consistent means of reasoning to replace it. Note that both of the arguments above for the decision are utilitarian in nature.
Labels: philosophy
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