Non-Violent Neutrality

14 January 2014

I don't know that 'Net-neutrality were, in fact, a good thing; but, even on the assumption that it were, state action is not the proper way to promote it.

'Net-neutrality can be promoted by how people do business with ISPs. At one end, subscribers can consistently migrate towards those ISPs who deviate least from neutrality. At the other end, website owners can impede access by ISPs that do not practice an acceptable degree of neutrality.

In fact, Google and Facebook could effectively impose neutrality by announcing that, in one year, they would begin blocking access by providers who did not make pledges, renewed annually but each extending for ten years, to practice 'Net-neutrality. It might, however, require state inaction for these heavy-hitters to make such a demand. Specifically, Congress might need to clear a path in anti-trust law to allow such a policy.

Λικνίτης

5 November 2013

I idly wondered what had happened to Dennis4President.com, the domain that had been used by the 2008 Presidential campaign of Dennis Kucinich.

Well, Dennis4President.com now seems to be a Japanese site for men seeking to engage in 援助交際 and for women seeking to engage in 逆援助交際, which amount to the hiring of escorts, though the payment may be in the form of goods or of services, rather than cash.

(The Kucinich campaign shut-down their site some time on or after 23 April 2008; and allowed their registration to lapse on 18 July 2008. The 援助交際 site was up by 11 September 2008.)

I'm not sure why someone should think Dennis4President.com to be a particularly good domain name for this enterprise. But, hey, sometimes all that we Westerners can do is shrug and say Japan.

Wilma Deering and Eschaton-a-Go-Go

27 September 2013

Some of you may already be familiar with Molly Kiely, an artist best known for illustrations in an alternative comic-book style. She and Ginger Mayerson are currently seeking funds to complete a graphic novel, Eschaton-a-Go-Go. Appropriately enough, they have a campaign on IndieGoGo.

There are a number of attractive perks for contributors; but, right now, there is an especially cool offer. For $15, Ms Kiely will draw a custom ATC with the science-fiction character or golden-age movie goddess of your choice. Note that she'll execute a small commission, rather than requiring selection amongst ATCs that she's already created. For example, I requested

[Wilma by Molly Kiely]
image used with kind permission of artist
Wilma by Molly Kiely
her take on Wilma Deering, roughly as Wilma appeared in the 1929 episodes of the Buck Rogers comic strip.

Now, here's your problem: This offer was limited to 25 ATCs; when last I knew, 7 of them were already claimed. That leaves just 18 still available. You don't want to suddenly realize that you'd like an ATC of LN-18 or of Alice White or of Galloway Gallagher or of Gene Tierney, only to discover that the last of these commissions went to some clown who wanted a picture of Professor Simon Wright.

Deep Thoughts about … What?

22 August 2013

I started reading Rethinking the Western Understanding of the Self by Ulrich Steinvorth, and in its first chapter came upon this passage

As subjects we desire satisfaction of our desires; as selves we strive for the enactment of reason and free will.

(Underscore mine.) It is not auspicious to find a claim of this sort early in the work.

To say that something desires the satisfaction of its individual desires is no more than to say that it desires what it desires; nothing fails to do this, as things without desire present us with the trivial case of a null set.

The pursuit of satisfaction of each individual desire does not logically entail global satiation of desires (bliss) unless those desires are themselves somehow bounded. It's not clear what Steinvorth means by desire (a point that I will labor), but let's assume that he means something along the lines of uncontemplated cravings and the things that are craved, as for sensual pleasures or for hoards of material goods. I don't see that they're naturally bounded. I don't see that most people make a presumption, one way or another, about whether such cravings are bounded. The impulse to bound them by attaining ἀπάθεια or nirvana seems far from universal to me (and anyway is probably not an expression of what Steinvorth calls subject, but of what he calls self).

It's evident that he wants to distinguish desire as a verb from one more generally meaning to have a directed psychological impulse, and as a noun from one more generally meaning objective; but nowhere prior has Steinvorth given a definition of desire, as noun or as verb; the remainder of the chapter and use of the index indicate that he's not going to do it at all. I see declarations such as X desires the satisfaction of X's desires as the unconscious attempt to fill the need for a definition with a logically unassailable tautology. (Simply say X desires and the need for definition is more apparent.) The problem is that the latter cannot do the work of the former, and the tautology is vacuous.

It's further evident from the first chapter that Steinvorth wants to distinguish happiness from a noun simply meaning an emotional sense of attaining or of having attained one's objectives; and to distinguish utility from a noun simply meaning usefulness. One can tell that he means to equate or approximate what he means by happiness with what he means by utility. But nowhere in the first chapter does he actually provide more positive definitions. He does insist that if we consider such things as the glory of suffering to be a form of happiness then the idea of happiness becomes inflated and loses its meaning, but I want to know what meaning it would lose. Again using the index, it doesn't seem that he bothered with providing any of these definitions anywhere else in the book.

Dark Thoughts

8 August 2013

Grey Poupon? Grey Poupon? he fairly choked, Persons of my stature use only Black Poupon, sir! We give the Grey Poupon to … the … servants!

Google Play Store Warning

5 August 2013

Before installing an app from the Google Play Store, if you do not otherwise have familiarity with the app's developer, look at the time-stamp listed for the latest version. If this version is only a day-or-so old, then look at the time-stamps for the app reviews. If all of these are only from the previous day-or-so, then wait a couple of days before installing the app.

I discovered that scam-ware is being posted to the Play Store, sometimes with thousands of shill down-loads and shill reviews, to give to it the appearance of legitimacy. Google acts to remove this scam-ware, but it takes them some time to catch up to it.


The Play Store review system is unfortunately very easily manipulated, and some developers are doing just that even for apps that are not themselves intended as scam-ware. Hundreds or thousands of shill reviews are posted over time. (These reviews are typically short, and sometimes absurd, as when a utility is said to be a great game.) Negative reviews are marked as Unhelpful by shills, and positive previews perhaps as Helpful; which, since the Play Store normally presents reviews ordered by Helpful-ness, means that negative reviews slide out of sight.

Self-Locating QR Code

14 June 2013
QR Code pointing to http://www.oeconomist.com/images/Miscellany/self_locating_qr_code.png

Will This Time Be Any Different?

11 June 2013

Time is measured by sequences of changes. Classic examples of sequences that have been used are beats of the heart, apparent positions of the sun and of the moon, and the solstices. In theory, any sequence might be used.

When one measure of time is gauged against another, it is ultimately a matter of counting how many changes of each sort occur. When the rate of some different changes seems to be constant relative to those by which time has been measured, if these different changes occur in greater number then it may be decided to substitute these changes as the primary measure of time, and thus have a finer-grained measure.

Speeds and frequencies are not normally recognized as conversion factors for measures of time against each other, but that is exactly what they are. In the case of speeds generally, the changes are quantifications (of physical position, perhaps). In the more specific case of frequencies, one has a sequence of changes that are attainment of — or departure from — what is regarded as a recurring state; a count of these attainments or departures might be quantified as a pure number.

To say that some changes take place at a constant rate over time is simply to say that there is an invariant correspondence between the number of the changes by which we measure time and the number of the changes whose rate is being measured.

Such constancy occurs trivially when the changes that are used to measure time are measured against time — they're just being measured against themselves. If time is measured by appearances of the sun above the horizon, then the conversion factor for the frequency with which the sun appears above the horizon is necessarily 1. If we use these appearances to meaure the frequency with which the heart beats, that frequency will almost certainly be inconstant; but if we use heart-beats as our measure of time, then their frequency will necessarily be 1 (and the frequency with which the sun appears will almost certainly be inconstant).

If someone should ask about using the average rate at which the heart beats as the measure of time, then he or she is implicitly presuming something other than heart-beats in measuring them, or their average frequency will necessarily be 1. Any comfort in imagining that the reference changes are being averaged is a comfort in confusion.

Someone else will insist that it is obvious that the rate at which any reference-heart beats is objectively inconstant, but it is no such thing. Rather, the convenience for the formulation of descriptions of the world around us of some measures is so limited, and that of others so pronounced as to make it seem that some are closer to objective constancy than are others.

If the measure of time were in terms of Scott's heart-beats, then his mood would figure into descriptions of the universe (the rest of the world would be slower when Scott were excited), and we'd need his pulse whenever we timed things (in particular, all other changes would happen infinitely fast after Scott died). These characteristics make Scott's heart-beats grossly inconvenient for everyone excepting, perhaps, Scott.

What one wants of measures of time are accessibility, for them to result in manageable descriptions of rest of the world, and for them to not to deviate intolerably from our subjective experiences of time. There is a certain amount of rivalry at least between the first two desiderata. Those measurements that are most easily made don't correspond to the simplest descriptions of the rest of the world. But some measurements of time result in many fairly simple descriptions (some of those descriptions are even of other rates as constants) that appear perfectly accurate. It is the latter sort of measurement that is mostly likely to be taken as objective, but if the measurements that supported the simplest statements of physical laws made a very poor fit for subjective experiences of time, then these measurements would not widely be accepted (even by scientists) as measurements of time at all, objective or otherwise!


We're often told that the speed of light (in vacuo) is constant. Many people wonder why this constancy is so; others whether it is so. But what is actually meant by the assertion itself that the speed of light be constant is that the changes in the position of light maintain a fixed ratio with the changes by which we have chosen to measure time. In effect, those (such as Einstein) who said that this speed were constant were declaring that we ought to measure time in a manner that made the speed of light constant. And the reason that we ought to measure it thus was because accurate descriptions of the behavior of things of interest would be as simple as possible (or, at the least, as simple as possible without resulting in a measure unrecognizable as time).

The real question is not of why or whether the speed of light is constant; the real question is of why treating it thus simplifies accurate descriptions. And the basic answer is because light and stuff very much like it do a lot. One whoozit affects another by way of that stuff.

Of course, that basic answer shouldn't satisfy anyone with more than passing curiosity. My point is just that the idea that the speed of light is constant doesn't represent a mystery of the sort that many people take it to be.


This entry was primarily motivated by my desire to get the point about the constancy of the speed of light off my chest, but the more general part of it actually has application to questions of method in economics.

When I was in the graduate programme at UCSD, there was a student who wanted to do some sort of econometric work where the changes by which time were measured would be transactions, rather than ticks of an ordinary clock — he called this alternate measure market time. (I don't know whether he arrived at the concept or at this term on his own, but he didn't cite a prior source.) Sadly, his initial presentation was a disaster; when he attempted to explain this idea to the professors who were to judge his work, he came across to them and to most of the rest of the audience as incoherent. I might well have been the only other person in the room who really understood what he was trying to say. (I had for some while been thinking skeptically about the propensity of economists to use the physicists' t.)

Afterwards, I sat down with him and tried to explain to him what he had to communicate; but he seemed not to listen to me as he insisted that the response of the professors were unfair. And, the next time that he gave a presentation on the idea, he essentially repeated his previous performance.

It is at least plausible to me that a major part of the reason that he could not communicate what he was proposing to do was that he had only a vague intuïtion about the nature of measures of time and about distinctions amongst them.

I would note that the particular measure of time that he suggested is certainly not the one for economists to use in all or even most cases, and that it has never been one that had distinctively useful application to a problem that I've investigated.

On the Definition of Economics

10 May 2013

Occasionally, I am confronted with the question of the nature of economics.

A great many people believe that they know what economics is. Many of these people have inferred a definition for economics from references in the popular media and from politicians to the economy, and from popular media presentations of or about various people labelled economist. Some people have taken one or two courses in high school or in college about something called economics, and have presumed that whatever definitions were given in their textbooks were uncontroversial.

Well, the fact is that the popular media do no better job in representing economics than they do in representing those subjects with which you (my reader) have a real familiarity. High school economics textbooks are often disasters written by people who aren't economists. First-year college textbooks often over-simplify things. And when a respected economist attempts to define economics, while his definition may be embraced by a great many other respected economists, it will be challenged by still other respected economists! (I'll define what I here mean by economist below. If you must have a definition right now, then take it to mean one who has received a degree or appointment by which he or she has been so labelled!)

Tromping where angels fear to tread, I am going to tell you how I define economics.

Economics is a cluster of studies. The studies that I have in mind concern these questions:

How do individuals allocate the resources at their disposal?How are prices formed?How are resources allocated within a community?
How should individuals allocate the resources at their disposal?How should prices be formed?How should resources be allocated within a community?
They are clustered because significant theories (propositional structures) hold that these studies have important inter-relationships.

(And now I'll define economist to mean someone who engages in more than casual study of any one or more of these areas.)

Someone may come along and show some serious flaw in my definition. But, on the expectation that it works, I'm going to discuss it.

There's a whole bunch of things not explicitly mentioned in my definition that lay-people associate with economics. That's because those things are particular cases of more general concepts. For example, households, firms, industries, bourses, and nations are each sorts of communities. There are economists whose studies concern social orders in which all of these communities exist, but the presumption of such a social order is not intrinsic to economics. Business administrators may find economics useful, but they also may find mathematics useful. Neither is simply a hand-maiden of business studies.

Not everyone who has attempted or attempts scientific or scholarly consideration of these questions accepts the existence of the inter-relationships described by the aforementioned theories. In some cases, they may subscribe to theories which accept significant inter-relationship, but on some very different theoretical basis. In some cases, researchers may claim that, where other theories see a bilateral causality, there is just a one-way causality. For example, these economists may insist that, while prices inform individual decisions, those prices are formed without regard to individual decisions.

Further, even economists who accept that these studies are all importantly inter-related don't necessarily spend much-if-any effort studying in all areas. Indeed, some may confine themselves to just one area. For example, every one of the living economists who is widely known to lay-people is a macroeconomist, which is to say that he or she is concerned with the behavior of aggregates such as prices levels, employment rates, and GDP. But, as a share of economists more generally, macroeconomists are a tiny minority. Most economists don't like macroeconomics. It is signally ignorant to ask a typical economist what the stock-market is going to do most days, because that's outside of his or her area of concern.

You surely noticed that the first row of question were non-normative, while the second row were corresponding normative questions. Some economists would insist that there is very little to be said normatively. On the other hand, often of normative theory of a sort is used to approximate non-normative theory, as when it is assumed that individuals have complete, transitive, and acyclical preferences.


For what it's worth, the words economy and economics comes to us from the Greek stems ὀικ-, referring to the household, and νομ-, referring to the law or to custom (with the -ic- from the adjectival suffix -ικ-). Greek ὀικονομ[ικ]- referred to management of the household and of its resources.

Transliterated into Latin, ὀικονομ[ικ]- became oeconom[ic]- and entered English thus. Somewhere along the line, the initial o fell silent.

In English, œconomy referred to resource management, typically at the the level of the household, that was wise, frugal, or perhaps tight-fisted, or to a savings realized by such management (a definition that still has some currency to-day); and œconomist to a manager who was wise, frugal, or tight-fisted. Conceptualizing a political community as household, the term political œconomy began to be used in reference to the sorts of management in which political authorities might engage. (German has a very similar term, Nationalökonomie.)

The initial o began to fall away from œconom-; and, in part because of the currency of political [o]economy, [o]economist became increasingly dissociated from thoughts of households or of other work-a-day management, and more concerned with a sort of philosophical or scientific study (though not, as it happens, before The Economist got its name).

Eventually, peculiar association of economics with the literal household was so forgotten that, when a term was wanted with the original sense, the philologically redundant home economics was adopted, with only quiet laughter off in the distance.


A few people now-a-days call themselves oeconomist, spelled in that archaic manner, as a way of asserting that they are or seek to be wise practical managers of resources. That's not, however, why I label myself thus.

Although my published work doesn't look simply modernistic but in fact hyper-modernistic, I'm sympathetic to much of the criticism of modernism in economics; I think that we need to reconsider some of the work done before the era of modernism. My œ is a way of saying that there's something deliberately old-fashioned to my thinking.

Decision-Time for the Donkey

6 May 2013

Yester-day, I finished reading the 1969 version of Choice without Preference: A Study of the History and of the Logic of the Problem of Buridan's Ass by Nicholas Rescher, which version appears in his Essays in Philosophical Analysis. An earlier version appeared in Kantstudien volume 51 (1959/60), and some version has or versions have appeared in later collections. I have only read the 1969 version, and some of the objections that I raise here may have been addressed by a revision.

The problem of Buridan's ass may not be familiar by name to all of my readers, but I imagine that all of them have encountered some form of it. A creature is given a choice between two options neither of which seems more desirable than the other. The question then is of how, if at all, the creature can make a choice. In the classical presentation, the creature is a donkey or some other member of the sub-genus Asinus of Equus, the choice is between food sources, and a failure to make a choice will result in death by starvation. The problem was not first presented by the Fourteenth-Century cleric and philosopher Jean Buridan, but it has come to be associated with his name. (Unsurprisingly, my paper on indifference and indecision makes mention of Buridan's ass.)

Rescher explores the history of the problem, in terms of the forms that it took, the ultimate purposes for which a principle were sought from its consideration, and the principles that were claimed to be found. Then he presents his own ostensible resolution, and examines how that might be applied to those ultimate purposes.

One of the immediate problems that I have with the essay is that nowhere does Rescher actually define what he means by preference. I feel this absence most keenly when Rescher objects that there is no preference where some author and I think there to be a preference.

As it happens, in my paper on indifference and indecision, I actually gave a definition of strict preference: (X1 pref X2) = ~[{X2} subset C({X1,X2})] which is to say that X1 is strictly preferred to X2 if X2 is not in the choice made from the two of them.[1] So, in that paper, strict preference really just refers to a pattern of choice. I didn't in fact define choice, and I'll return to that issue later.

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary essentially identifies preference as a gerund of prefer, and offers two potentially relevant definitions of prefer:

  1. to promote or advance to a rank or position
  2. to like better or best
The first seems to be a description of selection as such. The second might be taken to mean something more. But when I look at the definition of like, I'm still wondering what sense I might make of it other than an inclination to choose.

I'm not claiming that Rescher is necessarily caught-up in an illusion. Rather, I'm claiming, first, that he hasn't explained something that is both essential to his position and far from evident; and, second, that his criticism of some authors is based upon confusing their definitions with his own.

When I used the notion of a choice function C( ) in my paper, my conception of choice was no more than one of selection, and that's what I was unconsciously taking Rescher to mean until, towards the end of his essay, speaking of decisions made by flips of coins (and the like), he writes

In either event, we can be said to have "made a choice" purely by courtesty. It would be more rigorously correct to say that we have effected a selection.

Well, no. This isn't a matter of rigor, whatever it might be. The word choice can rigorously refer to selection of any sort. It can also refer to selection with care of some sort, which seems to be what he had in mind.

Some of the authors whom Rescher cites, and Rescher himself, assert that when a choice is to be made in the face of indifference, it may be done by random means. Indeed, Rescher argues that it must be done by such means. But he waits rather a long time before he provides any explicit definition of what he means by random, and he involves two notions without explaining why one must invoke the other, and indeed seemingly without seeing that he would involve two distinct notions. When he finally gives an explicit notion, it to characterize a choice to be made as random when there is equal weight of evidence in favor of each option. However, when earlier writing of the device by which the selection is to be made, he insists

The randomness of any selection process is a matter which in cases of importance, shall be checked by empirical means.

Now, one does not test the previously mentioned equal weight of the evidence by empirical means. An empirical test, instead, adds to the fund of evidence. We can judge the weight of the present evidence about the selection device by examining just that present evidence. The options are characterized by equal plausibility, yet Rescher has insisted that the selection device must instead be characterized by equal propensity. It isn't clear why the device can't simply also be characterized by equal plausibility.[2]

Rescher makes a somewhat naïve claim just before that insistence on empirical testing. For less critical choices, he declares

This randomizing instrument may, however, be the human mind, since men are capable of making arbitrary selections, with respect to which they can be adequately certain in their own mind that the choice was made haphazardly, and without any reasons whatsoever. This process is, it is true, open to possible intrusions of unrecognized biases, but then so are physical randomizers such as coins.

Actually, empirical testing of attempts by people to generate random numbers internally show very marked biases, such that it's fairly easy to find much less predictable physical selectors.

Rescher's confusion of notions of randomness is entangled with a confounding taxonomy of choice which is perhaps the biggest problem with Rescher's analysis. The options that he allows are

  1. decision paralysis
  2. selection favoring the first option
  3. selection favoring the second option
  4. random selection, in which random entails a lack of bias
And, proceeding thence, he seems to confuse utterly the notion that choice without some preference somewhere is impossible with the notion that choice without some preference somewhere is unreasonable. In any case, Rescher insists that only the last of these modes of selection is reasonable, and this insistence would tell Buridan's ass that it must starve unless it can find a perfectly unbiased coin![3] Reason would be a harsher mistress than I take her to be!

Another term that Rescher uses without definition is fair and its coördinates, as when he writes

Random selection, it is clear, constitutes the sole wholly satisfactory manner of resolving exclusive choice between equivalent claims in a wholly fair and unobjectionable manner.

I certainly don't see that random selection should be seen as wholly satisfactory (though I believe it to often be the least unsatisfying manner), and I don't know what Rescher imagines by fair. My experience is that when the word fair is used, it is typically for something more appealing than justice to those inclined to envy. In the case of allotments by coin-flip, there may be no motivation for envy ex ante, but things will be different ex post. People do a great deal of railing against the ostensible unfairness of their luck or of that of another.

I recall one final objection, which moves us quite out of the realm of economics, but which I have none-the-less. One of the applications of these questions of choice without preference (or, at least, without preference except stemming from meta-preference) has been to choices made by G_d. In looking at these problems, Rescher insists that G_d's knowledge must be timeless; I think that he ought to allow for the possibility that it were not.


[1] That might seem an awkward way of saying that X1 is strictly preferred to X2 if only X1 is in the choice from the two of them, but it actually made the proofs less awkward to define strict preference in this odd manner.

[2] Even if one insists that the selection device must be characterized by equal propensity, there is in fact little need for empirical testing, if one accepts the presumptions that a coin may be considered to have unchanging bias and that flips of a coin may be independent one from another. Implicitly making these assumptions, my father proposes a method for the construction of a coin where the chances of heads and of tails would be exactly equal. One starts with an ordinary coin; it comes-up heads sometimes, and tails others. Its bias is unknown; at best approximated. But, whatever the bias may be, says my father, in any pair of flips, the chances of heads-followed-by-tails are exactly equal to the chances of tails-followed-by-heads. So a pair of flips of the ordinary coin that comes-up heads-tails is heads for the constructed coin; a pair of flips of the ordinary coin that comes-up tails-heads is tails for the constructed coin; any other pair for the ordinary coin (heads-heads, tails-tails, or one or both flips on edge) is discarded.

[3] I don't know that my father could explain his solution to a donkey. I've had trouble explaining it to human beings.