“Deal with weaker states as you think it appropriate for stronger states to deal with you.”
Nobody embodies the notion of symmetry better than Isocrates, who lived more than a century and made significant contributions when he was in his nineties. He even managed a rare dynamic version of the Golden Rule: “Conduct yourself toward your parents as you would have your children conduct themselves toward you.” We had to wait for the great baseball coach Yogi Berra to get another such dynamic rule for symmetric relations: “I go to other people’s funerals so they come to mine.”
More effective, of course, is the reverse direction, to treat one’s children the way one wished to be treated by one’s parents.*2
The very idea behind the First Amendment of the Constitution of the United States is to establish a silver rule–style symmetry: you can practice your freedom of religion so long as you allow me to practice mine; you have the right to contradict me so long as I have the right to contradict you. Effectively, there is no democracy without such an unconditional symmetry in the rights to express yourself, and the gravest threat is the slippery slope in the attempts to limit speech on grounds that some of it may hurt some people’s feelings. Such restrictions do not necessarily come from the state itself, rather from the forceful establishment of an intellectual monoculture by an overactive thought police in the media and cultural life.
Fuhgetaboud Universalism
By applying symmetry to relations between individual and collective, we get virtue, classical virtue, what is now called “virtue ethics.” But there is a next step: all the way to the right of Table 1 is Immanuel Kant’s categorical imperative, which I summarize as: Behave as if your action can be generalized to the behavior of everyone in all places, under all conditions. The actual text is more challenging: “Act only in accordance with that maxim through which you can at the same time will that it will become a universal law,” Kant wrote in what is known as the first formulation. And “act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, never merely as a means to an end, but always at the same time as an end,” in what is known as the second formulation.
Formulation shmormulation, fughedaboud Kant as it gets too complicated and things that get complicated have a problem. So we will skip Kant’s drastic approach for one main reason:
Universal behavior is great on paper, disastrous in practice.
Why? As we will belabor ad nauseam in this book, we are local and practical animals, sensitive to scale. The small is not the large; the tangible is not the abstract; the emotional is not the logical. Just as we argued that micro works better than macro, it is best to avoid going to the very general when saying hello to your garage attendant. We should focus on our immediate environment; we need simple practical rules. Even worse: the general and the abstract tend to attract self-righteous psychopaths similar to the interventionistas of Part 1 of the Prologue.
In other words, Kant did not get the notion of scaling—yet many of us are victims of Kant’s universalism. (As we saw, modernity likes the abstract over the particular; social justice warriors have been accused of “treating people as categories, not individuals.”) Few, outside of religion, really got the notion of scaling before the great political thinker Elinor Ostrom, about whom a bit in Chapter 1.
In fact, the deep message of this book is the danger of universalism taken two or three steps too far—conflating the micro and the macro. Likewise the crux of the idea of The Black Swan was Platonification, missing central but hidden elements of a thing in the process of transforming it into an abstract construct, then causing a blowup.
II. FROM KANT TO FAT TONY
Let us move to the present, to the transactional, highly transactional present. In New Jersey, symmetry can simply mean, in Fat Tony’s terms: don’t give crap, don’t take crap. His more practical approach is
Start by being nice to every person you meet. But if someone tries to exercise power over you, exercise power over him.
Who is Fat Tony? He is a character in the Incerto who, in demeanor, behavior, choices under uncertainty, conversation, lifestyle, waist size, and food habits would be the exact opposite of your State Department analyst or economics lecturer. He is also calm and unfazed unless one really gets him angry. He became wealthy by helping people he generically calls “the suckers” separate from their funds (or, as is often the case, those of their clients, as these people often gamble with other people’s money).
This symmetry thing happens to link directly to my own profession: option trader. In an option, one person (the buyer of the option), contractually has the upside (future gains), the other (the seller) has a liability for the downside (future losses), for a pre-agreed price. Just as in an insurance contract, where risk is transferred for a fee. Any meaningful disruption of such symmetry—with transfer of liabilities—invariably leads to an explosive situation, as we saw with the economic crisis of 2008.
This symmetry thing also concerns the alignment of interests in a transaction. Let us refresh earlier arguments: if bankers’ profits accrue to them, while their losses are somewhat quietly transferred to society (the Spanish grammar specialists, assistant schoolteachers…), there is a fundamental problem by which hidden risks will continuously increase, until the final blowup. Regulations, while appearing to be a remedy on paper, if anything, exacerbate the problem as they facilitate risk-hiding.
Which brings us to what is known as the agency problem.
Crook, Fool, or Both
One practical extension of the Silver Rule (as a reminder, it is the one that says Do not do to others what you don’t want them to do to you):
Avoid taking advice from someone who gives advice for a living, unless there is a penalty for their advice.
Recall the earlier comment on how “I trust you” straddles both ethics and knowledge. There is always an element of fools of randomness and crooks of randomness in matters of uncertainty; one has a lack of understanding, the second has warped incentives. One, the fool, takes risks he doesn’t understand, mistaking his own past luck for skills, the other, the crook, transfers risks to others. Economists, when they talk about skin in the game, are only concerned with the second.
Let us flush out the idea of agency, well-known and studied by insurance companies. Simply, you know a lot more about your health than any insurer would. So you have an incentive to get an insurance policy when you detect an illness before someone else knows about it. By getting insured when it fits you, not when you are healthy, you end up costing the system more than you put into it, hence causing a raise in premia paid by all sorts of innocent people (including, again, the Spanish grammar specialists). Insurance companies have filters such as high deductibles and other methods to eliminate such imbalances.
The agency problem (or principal-agent problem) also manifests itself in the misalignment of interests in transactions: a vendor in a one-shot transaction does not have his interests aligned to yours—and so can hide stuff from you.
But disincentive is not enough: the fool is a real thing. Some people do not know their own interest—just consider addicts, workaholics, people trapped in a bad relationship, people who support large government, the press, book reviewers, or respectable bureaucrats, all of whom for some mysterious reason act against their own interest. So there is this other instance where filtering plays a role: fools of randomness are purged by reality so they stop harming others. Recall that it is at the foundation of evolution that systems get smart by elimination.
There is another point: we may not know beforehand if an action is foolish—but reality knows.
Causal Opacity and Preferences Revealed*3
Let us now take the epistemological dimension of skin in the game to an even higher level. Skin in the game is about the real world, not appearances. As per Fat Tony’s motto:
You do not want to win an argument. You want to win.
Indeed you need to win whatever you are after: money, territory, the heart of a grammar specialist, or a (pink) convertible car. For focusing just on words puts one on a very dangerous slope, since
We are much better at doing than understanding.
There is a difference between a charlatan and a genuinely skilled member of society, say that between a macrobull***ter political “scientist” and a plumber, or between a journalist and a mafia made man. The doer wins by doing, not convincing. Entire fields (say economics and other social sciences) become themselves charlatanic because of the absence of skin in the game connecting them back to earth (while the participants argue about “science”). Chapter 9 shows how they will develop elaborate rituals, titles, protocols, and formalities to hide this deficit.
You may not know in your mind where you are going, but you know it by doing.
Even economics is based on the notion of “revealed preferences.” What people “think” is not relevant—you want to avoid entering the mushy-soft and self-looping discipline of psychology. People’s “explanations” for what they do are just words, stories they tell themselves, not the business of proper science. What they do, on the other hand, is tangible and measurable and that’s what we should focus on. This axiom, perhaps even principle, is very powerful but is not followed too much by researchers. Revelation of preferences is best understood by the betrothed: a diamond, particularly when it is onerous to the buyer, is vastly more convincing a commitment (and much less reversible) than a verbal promise.
As to forecasting, fuhgetaboud it:
Forecasting (in words) bears no relation to speculation (in deeds).
I personally know rich horrible forecasters and poor “good” forecasters. Because what matters in life isn’t how frequently one is “right” about outcomes, but how much one makes when one is right. Being wrong, when it is not costly, doesn’t count—in a way that’s similar to trial-and-error mechanisms of research.
Exposures in real life, outside of games, are always too complicated to reduce to a well-defined “event” easy to describe in words. Outcomes in real life are not as in a baseball game, reduced to a binary win-or-lose outcome. Many exposures are highly nonlinear: you may be beneficially exposed to rain, but not to floods. The exact argument is flushed out in this author’s technical works. Take for now that forecasting, especially when done with “science,” is often the last refuge of the charlatan, and has been so since the beginning of times.
Further, there is something called the inverse problem in mathematics, which is solved by—and only by—skin in the game. I will simplify for now as follows: it is harder for us to reverse-engineer than engineer; we see the result of evolutionary forces but cannot replicate them owing to their causal opacity. We can only run such processes forward. The very operation of Time (which we capitalize) and its irreversibility requires the filtering from skin in the game.
Skin in the game helps to solve the Black Swan problem and other matters of uncertainty at the level of both the individual and the collective: what has survived has revealed its robustness to Black Swan events and removing skin in the game disrupts such selection mechanisms. Without skin in the game, we fail to get the Intelligence of Time (a manifestation of the Lindy effect, which will get an entire chapter, and by which 1) time removes the fragile and keeps the robust, and 2) the life expectancy of the nonfragile lengthens with time). Ideas have, indirectly, skin in the game, and populations that harbor them do as well.
In that light—that of (causal) opacity and revelation of preferences—the Intelligence of Time under skin in the game even helps define rationality—the only definition of rationality I found that doesn’t fall apart under logical scrutiny. A practice may appear to be irrational to an overeducated and naive (but punctual) observer who works in the French Ministry of Planning, because we humans are not intelligent enough to understand it—but it has worked for a long time. Is it rational? We have no grounds to reject it. But we know what is patently irrational: what threatens the survival of the collective first, the individual second. And, from a statistical standpoint, going against nature (and its statistical significance) is irrational. In spite of the noise funded by pesticide and other technological companies, there is no known rigorous definition of rationality that makes rejection of the “natural” rational; to the contrary. By definition, what works cannot be irrational; about every single person I know who has chronically failed in business shares that mental block, the failure to realize that if something stupid works (and makes money), it cannot be stupid.
A system with skin-in-the-game requirements holds together through the notion of a sacrifice in order to protect the collective or entities higher in the hierarchy that are required to survive. “Survival talks and BS walks.” Or as Fat Tony would put it: “Survival tawks and BS wawks.” In other words:
What is rational is what allows the collective—entities meant to live for a long time—to survive.
Not what is called “rational” in some unrigorous psychology or social science book.*4 In that sense, contrary to what psychologists and psycholophasters will tell you, some “overestimation” of tail risk is not irrational by any metric, as it is more than required overall for survival. There are some risks we just cannot afford to take. And there are other risks (of the type academics shun) that we cannot afford to not take. This dimension, which bears the name “ergodic,” is belabored in Chapter 19.
Skin in the Game, but Not All the Time
Skin in the game is an overall necessity, but let us not get carried away in applying it to everything in sight in its every detail, particularly when consequences are contained. There is a difference between the interventionista of Prologue, Part 1 making pronouncements that cause thousands to be killed overseas, and a harmless opinion voiced by a person in a conversation, or a pronouncement by a fortune teller used for therapy rather than decision making. Our message is to focus on those who are professionally slanted, causing harm without being accountable for it, by the very structure of their own occupation.
For the professionally asymmetric person is rare and has been so in history, and even in the present. He causes a lot of problems, but he is rare. For most people you run into in real life—bakers, cobblers, plumbers, taxi drivers, accountants, tax advisors, garbage collectors, dental cleaning assistants, carwash operators (not counting Spanish grammar specialists)—pay a price for their mistakes.
III. MODERNISM
While conforming to ancestral, ancient, and classical notions of justice, this book, relying on the same arguments of asymmetry, goes against a century and a half of modernistic thinking—something we will call here intellectualism. Intellectualism is the belief that one can separate an action from the results of such action, that one can separate theory from practice, and that one can always fix a complex system by hierarchical approaches, that is, in a (ceremonial) top-down manner.
Intellectualism has a sibling: scientism, a naive interpretation of science as complication rather than science as a process and a skeptical enterprise. Using mathematics when it’s not needed is not science but scientism. Replacing your well-functioning hand with something more technological, say, an artificial one, is not more scientific. Replacing the “natural,” that is age-old, processes that have survived trillions of high-dimensional stressors with something in a “peer-reviewed” journal that may not survive replication or statistical scrutiny is neither science nor good practice. At the time of writing, science has been taken over by vendors using it to sell products (like margarine or genetically modified solutions) and, ironically, the skeptical enterprise is being used to silence skeptics.
Disrespect for the vapidly complicated, verbalistically derived truths has always been present in intellectual history, but you are not likely to see it in your local scient
ific reporter or college teacher: higher-order questioning requires more intellectual confidence, deeper understanding of statistical significance, and a higher level of rigor and intellectual capacity—or, even better, experience selling rugs or specialized spices in a souk. So this book continues a long tradition of skeptical-inquiry-cum-practical-solutions—the readers of the Incerto might be familiar with the schools of skeptics (covered in The Black Swan), in particular the twenty-two-century-old diatribe by Sextus Empiricus Against the Professors.
The rule is:
Those who talk should do and only those who do should talk
with some dispensation for self-standing activities such as mathematics, rigorous philosophy, poetry, and art, ones that do not make explicit claims of fitting reality. As the great game theorist Ariel Rubinstein holds: do your theories or mathematical representations, don’t tell people in the real world how to apply them. Let those with skin in the game select what they need.
Let us get more practical about the side effect of modernism: as things get more technological, there is a growing separation between the maker and the user.
How to Beam Light on a Speaker
Skin in the Game Page 3