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Sunday, October 31, 2010
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Megan McArdle is the business and economics editor for The Atlantic. She has worked at three start-ups, a consulting firm, an investment bank, a disaster recovery firm at Ground Zero, and the Economist.
I have a good information to share with you.I assume that spam filters have something to do with it, but it ought to be possible to write a better email than that. So why don't they?
A while ago,a trading company attractive to me,
the price is very competitive advantage, so I bought some products.
It is very exciting,very pleased when I got and saw my goods.
I think you can go to see: [REDACTED]
you'll save more money in there. e--.
Now, there are a bunch of things you might say about this right from the start. Maybe governments shouldn't be in the business of running nanny state ads about personal nutrition. Maybe this particular ad was disgusting and shouldn't have been released. Maybe obesity isn't really that big a deal in the first place. But those weren't the issues at stake. Rather, it was this single sentence in the ad:What, I thought, could be wrong with that? A can of sugared soda contains about 150 calories, and adding 150 calories a day to your diet would almost certainly produce a ten-pound weight gain over the course of a year or so. There are some caveats, of course:Drinking 1 can of soda a day can make you 10 pounds fatter a year.
This all seems pretty obvious, and while you'd probably mention it in a longer piece, it hardly seems necessary in a 30-second spot. But it turns out the scientists, especially Michael Rosenbaum of Columbia, seemed to think it should all be included. The ad, he said, was "misleading in that there is no reference to energy output changes."
I think there's a subtler problem with the ad. It treats the soda consumption as completely unrelated to your metabolism, your level of exercise, and so forth. But this is not really the state of the art thinking on calorie consumption. The "input/output" model of obesity is correct at some level, but it's far too simple. If you are consistently over your calorie needs by as little as 100 calories a day--the number of calories in a largish slice of bread--you'll gain ten pounds in a year. If you're under your calorie intake by as little as 100 calories, you'll lose ten pounds in a year. If adding or subtracting calories like that could actually mechanically produce weight gain or loss, we'd all be obese, or starving to death.
So why doesn't this happen to more people? We understand it intuitively on the starvation side--if you accidentally go under your calorie count one day, your appetite compensates by making you hungrier. If you do it too many days in a row, your metabolism slows down.
What most people don't appreciate is that the same thing happens on the other side. That's probably because in our culture, most of us would like to be eating a little bit less than we are. But experiments with students and prisoners who deliberately set out to gain weight show that appetite decreases, and metabolism increases, if people consistently overeat. That's why most of us stay in a relatively stable band, rather than seeing our weight fluctuate wildly. Gina Kolata argues that most people have a pretty narrow band of weight that their bodies are comfortable in--about 10-30 pounds. Stay at the low end, and you'll feel a bit hungry; get to the high end, and you may lose some of your interest in food. But it's actually very hard to bust out of that band on either side.
So while adding a can of soda to your diet and changing absolutely nothing else would indeed make you gain ten pounds, the act of consuming those calories will change other things. It may supress your appetite for other foods, or your body may boost your metabolism a bit to compensate.
Now, there are some mitigating counterarguments--some people think that soda calories are different from other sorts of calories, because the body doesn't respond to liquid calories the same way as it does to normal foods that come packed with some fiber and fat. But that's not really the argument the ad is making. In fact, it suggests drinking low-fat milk instead, which has about the same number of calories as soda. To be sure, those calories come bundled with things like calcium, which are good for you--but if the 140 calories from a can of Coke are going to make you fat, so will the 120 calories in contained in the same amount of lowfat milk.
The photo, shown below, was taken by the inventor of the Daguerreotype himself, Louis Daguerre, on the streets of Paris in 1838. Hokumburg claims, in his post, that this is the first photograph of a human being.
The image, haunting in its absence of, well, life, reminds me of Abelardo Morell's long-exposure digital photographs, a modern-day play on old technology. One of the first photographic processes, the daguerreotype required very long exposures to form an image on the surface of a silver plate. It's likely that this was a busy street at the time, but because the image would have taken several minutes to form, only the figure standing still -- getting his boots shined? -- shows up.
The idea behind early voting is that by making it easier for people to vote, you will ensure that more people do so. Somewhat surprisingly, in the real world, it may not be working out that way:
Our research, conducted with our colleagues David Canon and Donald Moynihan at the University of Wisconsin, is based on a three-part statistical analysis of the 2008 presidential election. First, we analyzed voting patterns in each of the nation's 3,100 counties to estimate the effect of early voting laws on turnout. We controlled for a wide range of demographic, geographic and political variables, like whether a county was in a battleground state.It turns out that early voting mitigates the impact of get-out-the-vote mechanisms, and it also diminishes the impact of "Election Day". Voting used to be a public act of civic engagement, with all sorts of activity focused around election day, from exhortatory news stories to social pressure from the sight of neighbors trudging to the poll. One way to think about it is that voting signals something about you to others in the community, but with the advent of early voting, that signal is no longer so powerful: someone who doesn't turn up on election day might not have voted, or they might simply have gotten it out of the way weeks before.Controlling for all of the other factors thought to shape voter participation, our model showed that the availability of early voting reduced turnout in the typical county by three percentage points,. Consider, as an example, a county in Kentucky, which lacks early voting. If we compared this to a similar county in neighboring Tennessee, which permits early voting, we would observe, other things being equal, turnout that was 3 points lower.
Next, we studied the data on more than 70,000 voters and nonvoters from the Census Bureau's Current Population Survey, which asks respondents whether they voted. Once again, we employed a statistical model to control for demographic variables like education and race as well as geographic and political factors. The model showed that an individual living in a state with early voting had a probability of voting that was four points lower than a comparable voter in a state without early voting.
Third, we took advantage of a useful feature of the census survey, which asks individuals whether they voted early or on Election Day. We examined the characteristics of voters and nonvoters, and found that the profiles of early voters and election day voters were mostly similar.
With one big exception: our model forecast that early voters had profiles that made them two percentage points more likely to vote than Election Day voters, whether there was an early option or not. Early voters were more educated and older and had higher incomes, all traits associated with a higher probability of voting. A probability difference of 2 percentage points may seem like a trivial figure, but when applied to populations of millions, it can shift national and state elections.
Even with all of the added convenience and easier opportunities to cast ballots, turnout not only doesn't increase with early voting, it actually falls. How can this be?
But I think this raises the crucial question in this debate: What is the valid scope of expertise?In the case of climate change, there is actual scientific knowledge about the properties of CO2, but advocates of emissions mitigation schemes constantly attempt to drape the mantle of science, or more broadly expert knowledge, around public policy positions that, as I have argued many times, do not follow even from the core technical reports produced by the asserted experts.
Bill Buckley famously said that he "would rather by governed by the first 2,000 names in the Boston telephone directory than by the Harvard faculty." So would I. But I would rather fly in an airplane with wings designed by one competent aeronautical engineer than one with wings designed by a committee of the first 20,000 names of non-engineers in the Boston phonebook. The value of actual expertise in a technical field like wing design outweighs the advantages offered by incorporating multiple points of view.
The essential Progressive belief that Klein expresses in undiluted form is that crafting public policy through legislation is a topic for which, in simplified terms, the benefits of expertise outweigh the benefits of popular contention. Stated more cautiously, this would be the belief that the institutional rules of the game should be more heavily tilted toward expert opinion on many important topics than they are in the U.S. today.
This would be a lot more compelling if the elites didn't have such a terrible track record of producing social interventions that work.
An aeronautical engineer can predict reliably that "If you design a wing like this, then this plane will be airworthy, but if you design it like that, then it will never get in the air." If you were to build a bunch of airplanes according to each set of specifications, you would discover that he or she is almost always right. This is actual expertise. I've tried to point out many times that the vast majority of program interventions fail when subjected to replicated, randomized testing.
Our so-called experts in public policy talk a good game, but in the end are no experts at all. They build castles of words, and call it knowledge.
"If we had a good way to inject someone into some role that would make them a better CEO of Berkshire, we'd do it, but the candidates we have right now are running businesses, making decisions, getting experience. To bring them in to the Berkshire offices while I'm sitting there reading would be a waste of talent."One theory is that it was to reassure his investors that he has a plan--but if so, it backfired; shares fell about 1% on the news.
The capability, which will be introduced later this year, will let buyers of Kindle e-books lend their Amazon e-book purchases just once, for a period of 14 days. (And just like an old-fashioned book, the lender cannot read their own book while it is virtually in the hands of a friend.) Sharing will work for both Kindle device owners and users of Kindle apps on other gadgets, like the iPad and iPhone. There's a catch. Not all of the company's 720,000 e-books will be lendable. "This is solely up to the publisher or rights holder, who determines which titles are enabled for lending," said Amazon in its announcement.
(I don't think she cares whether she is right on the facts or not, because she deeply and truly believes that she is correct in some Platonic sense). This results in some genuinely pernicious writing, that is nonetheless quite influential - and while I'm not especially influential myself, I think that I have to do my bit, and probably should be doing it more than I do do it.This in the comments to a post in which Henry Farrell accused me of rank hypocrisy by juxtaposing something I wrote yesterday with something that I wrote close on eight years ago. Mr. Farrell was unaware that I had publicly retracted these remarks, and apologized for them, two years ago.
. . . we might try to understand exactly what loving your neighbour as yourself means. I have to love him as I love myself. Well, how exactly do I love myself?
Now that I come to think of it, I have not exactly got a feeling of fondness or affection for myself, and I do not even always enjoy my own society. So apparently "Love your neighbour" does not mean "feel fond of him" or "find him attractive". I ought to have seen that before, because, of course, you cannot feel fond of a person by trying. Do I think well of myself, think myself a nice chap? Well I am afraid I sometimes do (and those are, no doubt, my worst moments) but that is not why I love myself. In fact it is the other way round: my self-love makes me think myself nice, but thinking myself nice is not why I love myself. So loving my enemies does not apparently mean thinking them nice either. That is an enormous relief. For a good many people imagine that forgiving your enemies means making out that they are really not such bad fellows after all, when it is quite plain that they are. Go a step further. In my most clear-sighted moments not only do I not think myself a nice man, but I know that I am a very nasty ones. I can look at some of the things I have done with horror and loathing. So apparently I am allowed to loathe and hate some of the things my enemies do. Now that I come to think of it, I remember Christian teachers telling me long ago that I must hate a bad man's actions, but not hate the bad man: or, as they would say, hate the sin but not the sinner.
For a long time I used to think this a silly, straw-splitting distinction: how could you hate what a man did and not hate the man? But years later it occurred to me that there was one man to whom I had been doing this all of my life--namely myself. However much I might dislike my own cowardice or conceit or greed, I went on loving myself. There had never been the slightest difficulty about it. In fact the very reason why I hated the things was that I loved the man. Just because I loved myself, I was sorry to find that I was the sort of man who did those things. Consequently, Christianity does not want us to reduce by one atom the hatred we feel for cruelty and treachery. We ought to hate them. Not one word of what we have said about them needs to be unsaid. But it does want us to hate them in the same way in which we hate things in ourselves: being sorry that the man should have done such things, and hoping, if it is anyway possible, that somehow, sometime, somewhere he can be cured and made human again.I really do think that we would go farther if we were more charitable to our opponents. There are very few people in the world who are simply mean and deliberately ignorant, and telling ourselves otherwise is simply flattering our own vanity: our opponents must be awful people, because otherwise they couldn't possibly oppose our wise and wonderful plans.
Henry Farrell writes:
Megan McArdle 2010 vintage
I thought it was pretty creepy when Jon Chait described another liberal journalist, Michael Kinsley, another journalist, as "curb stomping" economist Greg Mankiw for, yes, daring to suggest that higher marginal tax rates might have incentive effects. Woo-hoo! But why stop with curb-stomping? Wouldn't it be fun to pile ten-thousand gleaming skulls of supply-siders outside the Heritage Offices? We could mount Art Laffer's head on a rotating musical pike that plays The Stars and Stripes Forever! Then, in the most hilarious surprise ending of all, the mob could turn on Jon Chait, douse him with gasoline and set him on fire, and then sack the offices of the New Republic!Megan McArdle 2003 vintage
So I was chatting about this with a friend of mine, a propos of the fact that everyone I know in New York is a) more frightened than they've been since mid-September 2001 and b) madly working on keeping up the who-the-hell-caresif -Iget-hit-by-a-truck? insouciance that New Yorkers feel is their sole civic obligation. Said friend was, two short years ago, an avowed pacifist and also a little bit to the left of Ho Chi Minh. And do you know what he said? "Bring it on."I can't be mad at these little dweebs. I'm too busy laughing. And I think some in New York are going to laugh even harder when they try to unleash some civil disobedience, Lenin style, and some New Yorker who understands the horrors of war all too well picks up a two-by-four and teaches them how very effective violence can be when it's applied in a firm, pre-emptive manner.I'm afraid I'm not quite bright enough to understand why kerb-stomping-as-a-metaphor for-argumentative-victory is creepy and unfunny, while actually beating up war-protesters with bits of lumber is hee-LAIRIUS. Perhaps someone can tease out the nuances for me in comments.
One of his commenters notes: "Looks like McArdle used her time machine to respond to this post a couple of years ago." Like so many of his students, Henry's problem isn't that he isn't bright; it's that he doesn't do his homework thoroughly.
Indeed, Henry Farrell's response is exactly what I was talking about; maybe that's why it rubbed him the wrong way. Did it engage with an argument? No it did not. It was the opposite of charitable, because its point wasn't to investigate the question; it was to make me look foolish. Naturally, therefore, Henry gathered only information that made me look bad, rather than checking to see whether there was any disconfirming evidence out there.
Below the fold, the entirety of that post from several years ago; you can decide for yourself which one of us has been selective in their reading of the other side.
What truly distinguishes sacred values from secular ones is how people behave when asked to compromise them. When people are asked to trade their sacred values for values considered to be secular--what psychologist Philip Tetlock refers to as a "taboo tradeoff"--they exhibit moral outrage, express anger and disgust, become increasingly inflexible in negotiations, and display an insensitivity to a strict cost-benefit analysis of the exchange. What's more, when people receive monetary offers for relinquishing a sacred value, they display a particularly striking irrationality. Not only are people unwilling to compromise sacred values for money--contrary to classic economic theory's assumption that financial incentives motivate behavior--but the inclusion of money in an offer produces a backfire effect such that people become even less likely to give up their sacred values compared to when an offer does not include money. People consider trading sacred values for money so morally reprehensible that they recoil at such proposals.For me, this resonates with my growing disgust at the level of anger in the blogosphere. I don't mean irritation, pointed jibes, or even spirited discussion; I mean an aggressive revelling in rage. I notice it much more on left wing sites, but that's because I basically refuse to read angry right-wing sites, so I don't know what's going on there.
I see that my post on gentrification has attracted some more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger finger wagging from Alex Baca, an intern at the City Paper, who writes at Greater Greater Washington:
I've complained before that McArdle takes a rather reductionist and simplistic view towards gentrification, and her latest piece is no exception. She boils gentrification down to middle-class (and likely white) buyers moving in, displacing poor (and likely African American) residents. Note that she does not specify whether she believes her neighbors do or do not own their homes. Neighborhood change, whether it's gentrification or not, extends far beyond this assumed black/white binary -- especially in cities other than DC.
So having finally closed on the house, we're living in what is euphemistically known as a "mixed" neighborhood, where poor black residents who have lived there for a generation or more exist somewhat uncomfortably side-by-side with more affluent whites who are drawn to the relatively cheap rents and lovely Victorian housing stock. The tensions thus built up are played out in many places, notably local politics, where a recent attempt by a local cafe to get a liquor license triggered many of the arguments that we heard after Adrian Fenty's loss in the mayoral race.
Thanks to the profound influence that The Death and Life of Great American Cities has exerted, the West Village circa 1960 has come to epitomize--really to be the blueprint for--the urban good life. But in its mix of the new and the left over, in its alchemy of authenticity, grit, seedy glamour, and intellectual and cultural sophistication, this was a neighborhood in a transitional and unsustainable, if golden, moment. Which meant that it was about to lose its soul. Two recently published books, Wrestling with Moses, by Anthony Flint, and Manhattan Projects, by Samuel Zipp, detail how the working class was driven out of the West Village, as gentrifiers like Jacobs drove up assessed values and rents. Progressive, reformist city planners, supported by seemingly most of the Village's blue-collar residents, favored a relatively low-impact urban-renewal scheme to build hundreds of below-market-rate homes in the neighborhood--a plan Jacobs and a group of largely affluent residents successfully fought on the grounds that it would destroy the area's character. Whatever the merits of the opposing positions, one of the proponents of renewal was surely prophetic in arguing in 1961, "If the Village area is left alone ... eventually the Village will consist solely of luxury housing This trend is already quite obvious and would itself destroy any semblance of the Village that [Jacobs and her allies] seem so anxious to preserve."When I say I'm in agreement, I mean empirically, not philosophically. I watched the process in the mixed-income neighborhood I grew up in, which was liberally dotted with housing projects, old tenements, and lots and lots of stores that served poor people. Eventually, only the housing projects were left, marooned on little islands amid a tidal wave of affluence that had even swept the residents out of the seventh-floor walk-ups built when Victoria was still on the British throne. There was virtually nowhere for the residents of the housing projects to shop or eat, as all the markets and restaurants had at least doubled in (real) price and changed their mix of goods to cater to investment bankers, not single mothers making $28,000 a year. The financial crisis temporarily halted the process, leaving some lower-income retail on Amsterdam Avenue. But I'm sure that as Wall Street gets its groove back, that too will go.Thanks in no small part to the fact that Jacobs's recipe for livable and vibrant cities--keep the scale small, preserve the physical fabric of neighborhoods--has become, Zipp says, "the lingua franca of planners and city lovers," the physical appearance of Jacobs's old neighborhood (a place where I lived and worked in the mid-1990s) is much as it was. But its character is unrecognizable. The hardware store's building, Zukin reports, now houses the New York branch of a small Chicago chain that describes itself as a purveyor of "hip designer maternity clothes"; in 2008 the ground floor of Jacobs's former home contained City Cricket, which sold "one-of-a kind, hand-made, antique treasures for children."
The same processes created--and, as Sorkin and Zukin would have it, destroyed--contemporary SoHo, Tribeca, and the East Village. In their analyses of each, it's clear that they pine for--and mistake as susceptible to preservation--the same sort of transitional moment Jacobs evokes in Death and Life, when an architecturally interesting enclave holds in ephemeral balance the emerging and the residual. Such neighborhoods still contain a sprinkling of light industry and raffish characters, for urban grit, and a dash of what Zukin calls "people of color," for exotic diversity. Added to the mélange are lots and lots of experimental artists (for that boho frisson) and a generous but not overwhelming portion of right-thinking designers, publishing types, architects, and academics, and the one-of-a kind boutiques and innovative restaurants that will give them places to shop and brunch.
Neither writer seems to apprehend the inherently impermanent nature of this balance, because neither writer comprehends large-scale economic processes. For instance, in railing against the passing of SoHo's exhilarating, creative days--characterized by "the mix of artists, crafts-people, small manufacturers, researchers [!], as well as of commerce oriented to their needs" (a few funky bars for the artists; places like the collectively run restaurant Food)--Sorkin joins in the lamentation for "the rapid decline of the city's industrial economy." He doesn't recognize that the SoHo he yearns for was precisely the product of that rapid industrial decline, which made economically available to artists and their hangers-on all those cool industrial spaces that in more industrially vibrant times would have been used by, well, industry.
Zukin declares that she "resent[s] everything Starbucks represents," which really means that her urban ideal is the cool neighborhood at the moment before the first Starbucks moves in, an ever-more-fleeting moment. Indeed, what has changed since Jacobs's day--and the reason, as these books attest, that gentrification has become so intense an issue--is the speed of the transition of districts from quasi dereliction to artsy to urban shopping mall. This acceleration results from the ways consumption has become the dominant means of self-expression (Zukin is perceptive on this point) and from--relatedly, ultimately--the acceleration of the global economy.
| Daniel AkstJournalist, novelist | Andrew CohenLegal analyst | Mickey EdwardsFormer congressman | Garrett EppsLaw professor and journalist |
| Richard FloridaCreativity expert | Alex GibneyDocumentary filmmaker | William HaseltineScientist, entrepreneur | Ben W. Heineman Jr.Policy expert |
| Philip K. HowardLawyer, civic leader | Hua HsuWriter on music and culture | Wendy KaminerLawyer, civil libertarian | Zachary KarabellExpert on economic trends |
| Damien MaChina analyst | Lisa MargonelliEnergy & environment writer | Peter OsnosJournalist, publisher | Patrick OttenhoffMapmaker |
| Richard A. PosnerFederal appeals court judge | Alyssa RosenbergWriter, editor, pop culture geek | Cristine RussellScience and health writer | Harry ShearerActor, director, musician |
| Ellen Ruppel ShellScience journalist | David ShenkScience & culture writer | Erik TarloffNovelist, screenwriter | Edward TennerCulture-and-tech historian |
| Jonathan TeppermanInternational affairs writer | Brian TillWriter on foreign policy | Abraham VergheseAuthor and physician | Lane WallacePilot, entrepreneur, writer |
| James WarrenPolitical analyst | Adam WerbachSustainability expert | Graeme WoodWriter and traveler |
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