Ibn Khaldun, Malthus, and Saint Matthew meet up for coffee

Friday, April 12th, 2013

Anatoly Karlin describes Peter Turchin’s War and Peace and War as Ibn Khaldun, Malthus, and Saint Matthew meet up for coffee:

Ranging from Ermak’s subjugation of the Sibir Khanate to the rise of Rome, Turchin makes the case that the rise and fall of empires is reducible to three basic concepts: 1) Asabiya – social cohesiveness and capacity for collective action, 2) Malthusian dynamics – the tendency for population to outgrow the carrying capacity, and 3) the “Matthew Principle” – the tendency for inequality and social stratification to increase over time. The interplay between these three forces produces the historical patterns of imperial rise and fall, of war and peace and war, that were summarized by Thomas Fenne in 1590 thus:

Warre bringeth ruine, ruine bringeth poverty, poverty procureth peace, and peace in time increaseth riches, riches causeth statelinesse, statelinesse increaseth envie, envie in the end procureth deadly malice, mortall malice proclaimeth open warre and bataille, and from warre again as before is rehearsed.

Slavery is the very best form of socialism

Friday, April 12th, 2013

The past is a foreign country, L. P. Hartley noted: they do things differently there.

This is especially true of, say, the antebellum South, which found itself on the wrong side of history.  Virginia lawyer George Fitzhugh’s Sociology for the South, or The Failure of Free Society (1854) certainly comes from a foreign land.  In it, he argues that slavery is the very best form of socialism:

The phenomena presented by the vassals and villiens of Europe after their liberation, were the opposite of those exhibited by the wealthy and powerful classes. Pauperism and beggary, we are informed by English historians, were unknown till the villiens began to escape from their masters, and attempted to practice a predatory and nomadic liberty. A liberty, we should infer from the descriptions we can get of it, very much like that of domestic animals that have gone wild — the difference in favor of the animals being that nature had made provision for them, but had made none for the villiens. The new freemen were bands of thieves and beggars, infesting the country and disturbing its peace. Their physical condition was worse than when under the rule of the Barons, their masters, and their moral condition worse also, for liberty had made them from necessity thieves and murderers. It was necessary to retain them in slavery, not only to support and sustain them and to prevent general mendicity, but equally necessary in order to govern them and prevent crime.

The advocates of universal liberty concede that the laboring class enjoy more material comfort, are better fed, clothed and housed, as slaves, than as freemen. The statistics of crime demonstrate that the moral superiority of the slave over the free laborer is still greater than his superiority in animal well-being. There never can be among slaves a class so degraded as is found about the wharves and suburbs of cities. The master requires and enforces ordinary morality and industry. We very much fear, if it were possible to indite a faithful comparison of the conduct and comfort of our free negroes with that of the runaway Anglo-Saxon serfs, that it would be found that the negroes have fared better and committed much less crime than the whites. But those days, the 14th and 15th centuries, were the halcyon days of vagabond liberty. The few that had escaped from bondage found a wide field and plenty of subjects for the practice of theft and mendicity. There was no law and no police adequate to restrain them, for until then their masters had kept them in order better than laws ever can.

But those glorious old times have long since passed. A bloody code, a standing army and efficient police keep them quiet enough now. Their numbers have multiplied a hundred fold, but their poverty has increased faster than their numbers. Instead of stealing and begging, and living idly in the open air, they work fourteen hours a day, cooped up in close rooms, with foul air, foul water, and insufficient and filthy food, and often sleep at night crowded in cellars or in garrets, without regard to sex.

How Social Darwinism Made Modern China

Thursday, April 11th, 2013

Ron Unz explores how social Darwinism made modern China. Here he cites Stoddard:

Winnowed by ages of grim elimination in a land populated to the uttermost limits of subsistence, the Chinese race is selected as no other for survival under the fiercest conditions of economic stress. At home the average Chinese lives his whole life literally within a hand’s breadth of starvation. Accordingly, when removed to the easier environment of other lands, the Chinaman brings with him a working capacity which simply appalls his competitors.

Farewell to Alms by Gregory ClarkChinese society is notable for its stability and longevity — which, as Gregory Clark pointed out in A Farewell to Alms, is wonderful for those at the top, while ensuring misery for those at the bottom:

From the gradual establishment of the bureaucratic imperial state based on mandarinate rule during the Sui (589–618) and T’ang (618–907) dynasties down to the Communist Revolution of 1948, a single set of social and economic relations appears to have maintained its grip on the country, evolving only slightly while dynastic successions and military conquests periodically transformed the governmental superstructure.

A central feature of this system was the replacement of the local rule of aristocratic elements by a class of official meritocrats, empowered by the central government and selected by competitive examination. In essence, China eliminated the role of hereditary feudal lords and the social structure they represented over 1,000 years before European countries did the same, substituting a system of legal equality for virtually the entire population beneath the reigning emperor and his family.

The social importance of competitive examinations was enormous, playing the same role in determining membership in the ruling elite that the aristocratic bloodlines of Europe’s nobility did until modern times, and this system embedded itself just as deeply in the popular culture. The great noble houses of France or Germany might trace their lineages back to ancestors elevated under Charlemagne or Barbarossa, with their heirs afterward rising and falling in standing and estates, while in China the proud family traditions would boast generations of top-scoring test-takers, along with the important government positions that they had received as a result. Whereas in Europe there existed fanciful stories of a heroic commoner youth doing some great deed for the king and consequently being elevated to a knighthood or higher, such tales were confined to fiction down to the French Revolution. But in China, even the greatest lineages of academic performers almost invariably had roots in the ordinary peasantry.

Not only was China the first national state to utilize competitive written examinations for selection purposes, but it is quite possible that almost all other instances everywhere in the world ultimately derive from the Chinese example. It has long been established that the Chinese system served as the model for the meritocratic civil services that transformed the efficiency of Britain and other European states during the 18th and 19th centuries. But persuasive historical arguments have also been advanced that the same is even true for university entrance tests and honors examinations, with Cambridge’s famed Math Tripos being the earliest example.11 Modern written tests may actually be as Chinese as chopsticks.

With Chinese civilization having spent most of the past 1,500 years allocating its positions of national power and influence by examination, there has sometimes been speculation that test-taking ability has become embedded in the Chinese people at the biological as well as cultural level. Yet although there might be an element of truth to this, it hardly seems likely to be significant. During the eras in question, China’s total population numbered far into the tens of millions, growing in unsteady fashion from perhaps 60 million before AD 900 to well over 400 million by 1850. But the number of Chinese passing the highest imperial exam and attaining the exalted rank of chin-shih during most of the past six centuries was often less than 100 per year, down from a high of over 200 under the Sung dynasty (960-1279), and even if we include the lesser rank of chu-jen, the national total of such degree-holders was probably just in the low tens of thousands,12 a tiny fraction of 1 percent of the overall population — totally dwarfed by the numbers of Chinese making their living as artisans or merchants, let alone the overwhelming mass of the rural peasantry. The cultural impact of rule by a test-selected elite was enormous, but the direct genetic impact would have been negligible.

This same difficulty of relative proportions frustrates any attempt to apply in China an evolutionary model similar to the one that Gregory Cochran and Henry Harpending have persuasively suggested for the evolution of high intelligence among the Ashkenazi Jews of Europe.13 The latter group constituted a small, reproductively isolated population overwhelmingly concentrated in the sorts of business and financial activity that would have strongly favored more intelligent individuals, and one with insignificant gene-flow from the external population not undergoing such selective pressure. By contrast, there is no evidence that successful Chinese merchants or scholars were unwilling to take brides from the general population, and any reasonable rate of such intermarriage each generation would have totally swamped the selective impact of mercantile or scholarly success. If we are hoping to find any rough parallel to the process that Clark hypothesizes for Britain, we must concentrate our attention on the life circumstances of China’s broad rural peasantry — well over 90 percent of the population during all these centuries — just as the aforementioned 19th-century observers generally had done.

In fact, although Western observers tended to focus on China’s horrific poverty above all else, traditional Chinese society actually possessed certain unusual or even unique characteristics that may help account for the shaping of the Chinese people. Perhaps the most important of these was the near total absence of social caste and the extreme fluidity of economic class.

Feudalism had ended in China a thousand years before the French Revolution, and nearly all Chinese stood equal before the law.14 The “gentry” — those who had passed an official examination and received an academic degree — possessed certain privileges and the “mean people” — prostitutes, entertainers, slaves, and various other degraded social elements — suffered under legal discrimination. But both these strata were minute in size, with each usually amounting to less than 1 percent of the general population, while “the common people” — everyone else, including the peasantry — enjoyed complete legal equality.

However, such legal equality was totally divorced from economic equality, and extreme gradations of wealth and poverty were found in every corner of society, down to the smallest and most homogenous village. During most of the 20th century, the traditional Marxian class analysis of Chinese rural life divided the population according to graduated wealth and degree of “exploitative” income: landlords, who obtained most or all of their income from rent or hired labor; rich, middle, and poor peasants, grouped according to decreasing wealth and rental income and increasing tendency to hire out their own labor; and agricultural laborers, who owned negligible land and obtained nearly all their income from hiring themselves out to others.

In hard times, these variations in wealth might easily mean the difference between life and death, but everyone acknowledged that such distinctions were purely economic and subject to change: a landlord who lost his land would become a poor peasant; a poor peasant who came into wealth would be the equal of any landlord. During its political struggle, the Chinese Communist Party claimed that landlords and rich peasants constituted about 10 percent of the population and possessed 70–80 percent of the land, while poor peasants and hired laborers made up the overwhelming majority of the population and owned just 10–15 percent of the land. Neutral observers found these claims somewhat exaggerated for propagandistic purposes, but not all that far from the harsh reality.15

Complete legal equality and extreme economic inequality together fostered one of the most unrestrained free-market systems known to history, not only in China’s cities but much more importantly in its vast countryside, which contained nearly the entire population. Land, the primary form of wealth, was freely bought, sold, traded, rented out, sub-leased, or mortgaged as loan collateral. Money-lending and food-lending were widely practiced, especially during times of famine, with usurious rates of interest being the norm, often in excess of 10 percent per month compounded. In extreme cases, children or even wives might be sold for cash and food. Unless aided by relatives, peasants without land or money routinely starved to death. Meanwhile, the agricultural activity of more prosperous peasants was highly commercialized and entrepreneurial, with complex business arrangements often the norm.16

For centuries, a central fact of daily life in rural China had been the tremendous human density, as the Middle Kingdom’s population expanded from 65 million to 430 million during the five centuries before 1850,17 eventually forcing nearly all land to be cultivated to maximum efficiency. Although Chinese society was almost entirely rural and agricultural, Shandong province in 1750 had well over twice the population density of the Netherlands, the most urbanized and densely populated part of Europe, while during the early years of the Industrial Revolution, England’s population density was only one-fifth that of Jiangsu province.18

Chinese agricultural methods had always been exceptionally efficient, but by the 19th century, the continuing growth of the Chinese population had finally caught and surpassed the absolute Malthusian carrying-capacity of the farming system under its existing technical and economic structure.19 Population growth was largely held in check by mortality (including high infant mortality), decreased fertility due to malnutrition, disease, and periodic regional famines that killed an average of 5 percent of the population.20 Even the Chinese language came to incorporate the centrality of food, with the traditional words of greeting being “Have you eaten?” and the common phrase denoting a wedding, funeral, or other important social occasion being “to eat good things.”21

The cultural and ideological constraints of Chinese society posed major obstacles to mitigating this never-ending human calamity. Although impoverished Europeans of this era, male and female alike, often married late or not at all, early marriage and family were central pillars of Chinese life, with the sage Mencius stating that to have no children was the worst of unfilial acts; indeed, marriage and anticipated children were the mark of adulthood. Furthermore, only male heirs could continue the family name and ensure that oneself and one’s ancestors would be paid the proper ritual respect, and multiple sons were required to protect against the vagaries of fate. On a more practical level, married daughters became part of their husband’s household, and only sons could ensure provision for one’s old age.

Nearly all peasant societies sanctify filial loyalty, marriage, family, and children, while elevating sons above daughters, but in traditional China these tendencies seem to have been especially strong, representing a central goal and focus of all daily life beyond bare survival. Given the terrible poverty, cruel choices were often made, and female infanticide, including through neglect, was the primary means of birth control among the poor, leading to a typical shortfall of 10–15 percent among women of marriageable age. Reproductive competition for those remaining women was therefore fierce, with virtually every woman marrying, generally by her late teens. The inevitable result was a large and steady natural increase in the total population, except when constrained by various forms of increased mortality.

Unz came to this idea long before he could share it:

I originally developed my theory of the evolutionary origins of high Chinese ability almost 35 years ago during the late 1970s, prompted by my discovery of the Edward Moise article on massive downward social mobility in traditional rural China. A few years later, I wrote it up as a paper for E.O. Wilson when I studied under him at Harvard in the early 1980s, but never made any effort to publish it, which seemed a hopeless effort given the intellectual climate of the times and the near-total dominance of the Gouldian “Blank Slate” perspective.

Afterward, it languished in my files for over a quarter century, until I happened to mention the idea to someone a couple of years ago, and he persuaded me to dig it out and put it on the Internet, where it drew quite a bit of attention from a couple of science-oriented bloggers. Then last year to my utter astonishment, I discovered that my old unpublished paper had been cited in a major academic journal review article as being among the earliest modern examples of the application of evolutionary analysis to a particular population groups. Since my college paper was totally outdated and was also so totally embarrassing in style and form, I resolved to revise and finally publish it, which I have now done.

Read the whole thing.

Good and Evil, Law and Chaos

Wednesday, April 10th, 2013

Michael O. Church believes that people are localistic:

We are altruistic to people we consider near to us in genetic, tribal, cultural, or emotional terms. We’re generally indifferent to those we regard at the periphery, favoring the needs of our tribe. Good and evil don’t escape from this localism; they just handle it differently. Good attempts to transcend this localism and (perhaps cautiously) grow the neighborhood of concern: expanding it to all citizens of a polity, then all humans, then all living beings. Evil, not always being egoistic, turns this localism into militancy. Both involve an outside-the-system comprehension of localism that is somewhat rare, leaving most people in an alignment considered neutral. Morally neutral people are best described as weakly good. Assuming they have a strong sense of what good and evil are, they’d prefer to be good, but this preference is not strong and they do not have a burning desire to seek good at personal or localistic risk.

The civility spectrum, between law and chaos, reflects peoples’ biases toward organizations and those who lead them. While lawful good people will oppose an evil society and chaotic good will support a good one, the truth about most societies and organizations is that they are themselves morally neutral, so a person’s civility (bias in favor or against establishment) will influence her tendency to oppose or support power more than the sign-comparison of her and its moral alignments. Lawful people think organizations tend to be better than the people who comprise them; chaotic people think they tend to be worse than the people who make them up. For my part, I’m chaotic, but just slightly. I think that individual people average a C+ on the moral scale (A being good, F being evil) and organizations tend to average a C-. Chaotic bias makes it natural to see corporations as “evil”; in reality, most of them are indifferent profit maximizers.

Interesting enough, software engineering is intrinsically chaotic. Because software requires exact precision, while human communication is inherently ambiguous, large software teams do not perform well. The per-person productivity of a large development team is substantially lower than that of an individual engineer. A team of 10 might be 2-2.5 times as productive as a single engineer. This leads us, as technologists, toward the (chaotic, possibly faulty) assumption that organizations are inherently less than the sum of their parts, because that is clearly true of software engineering teams.

Management theorists have questioned human nature, generating two opposite sets of assumptions about the typical employee of a corporation.

Theory X (presumed egoism): employees are intrinsically lazy, selfish, and amoral. If they are not watched, they will steal. If they are not prodded, they will slack. They are not to be trusted. The manager’s job is to intimidate people into getting their work done and not doing things that hurt the company.

Theory Y (presumed altruism): employees are intrinsically motivated and inclined to help the organization. If they are given appropriate work, they’ll do well. The manager’s job is to nurture talent and then get out of people’s way, so they can get work done.

Theory X is socially unacceptable, but a better representative than Y of how business executives actually think. Theory Y is how executives and organizations present their mentality, because it’s more socially acceptable. So which is right? Neither entirely. Theory X is ugly, but it has some virtues. First, it can be, perversely, more egalitarian than Theory Y. Theory X distrusts everyone, including the most talented and best positioned. Executives are no better than worker bees; everyone must be monitored and a bit scared. Theory Y, which is focused on talent and development, requires (non-egalitarian) decisions about whom to develop. Second, Theory X is more tolerant of scaling, because large-scale societies run (by necessity) on X-ish assumptions. To keep a Theory-Y organization intact, you cannot hire before you trust. Only in the technological era (where small groups can deliver massive returns) has it been possible for growth-oriented organizations to hire so selectively as to make Theory-Y organizational policies tenable.

My ideology (e.g. open allocation) might be seen as “extreme Theory Y”, but that’s not because I believe Theory Y is inerrant. It’s not. Reality is somewhere between X and Y. I believe that organizations ought to take the Y-ward direction largely (on this spectrum) for the same reason that archers aim slightly above their targets. With the actual leadership of most organizations tending toward egoism and X-ness, an organization that doesn’t set inflexible, constitutional Theory-Y pillars (for some concerns) is going to suffer a severe X-ward bias. X-ism is tolerable for concave industrial work, but in the convex world, organizations need to be somewhat Theory Y. How X (or Y) should an organization be? There’s actually a very simple and absolutely correct answer here: trust employees with their own time and energy, distrust those who want to control others’. It really is that simple — a rarity in human affairs — and to continue with anything else is moronic. Employees who volunteer to use their own energies toward something they believe will benefit the organization should be trusted to do so; those who exhibit a desire for dominance over others should be deeply distrusted.

(Hat tip to Clerestorian.)

Sam Harris’s Response to Controversy

Tuesday, April 9th, 2013

Sam Harris has found that detractors deliberately misrepresent his views:

It is impossible to effectively defend oneself against unethical critics. If nothing else, the law of entropy is on their side, because it will always be easier to make a mess than to clean it up. It is, for instance, easier to call a person a “racist,” a “bigot,” a “misogynist,” etc. than it is for one’s target to prove that he isn’t any of these things. In fact, the very act of defending himself against such accusations quickly becomes debasing. Whether or not the original charges can be made to stick, the victim immediately seems thin-skinned and overly concerned about his reputation. And, rebutted or not, the original charges will be repeated in blogs and comment threads, and many readers will assume that where there’s smoke, there must be fire.

Such defamation is made all the easier if one writes and speaks on extremely controversial topics and with a philosopher’s penchant for describing the corner cases—the ticking time bomb, the perfect weapon, the magic wand, the mind-reading machine, etc.—in search of conceptual clarity. It literally becomes child’s play to find quotations that make the author look morally suspect, even depraved.

He starts by describing his views on Islam:

My criticism of faith-based religion focuses on what I consider to be bad ideas, held for bad reasons, leading to bad behavior. Because I am concerned about the logical and behavioral consequences of specific beliefs, I do not treat all religions the same. Not all religious doctrines are mistaken to the same degree, intellectually or ethically, and it would be dishonest and ultimately dangerous to pretend otherwise. People in every tradition can be seen making the same errors, of course—e.g. relying on faith instead of evidence in matters of great personal and public concern—but the doctrines and authorities in which they place their faith run the gamut from the quaint to the psychopathic. For instance, a dogmatic belief in the spiritual and ethical necessity of complete nonviolence lies at the very core of Jainism, whereas an equally dogmatic commitment to using violence to defend one’s faith, both from within and without, is similarly central to the doctrine of Islam. These beliefs, though held for identical reasons (faith) and in varying degrees by individual practitioners of these religions, could not be more different. And this difference has consequences in the real world. (Let that be the first barrier to entry into this conversation: If you will not concede this point, you will not understand anything I say about Islam. Unfortunately, many of my most voluble critics cannot clear this bar—and no amount of quotation from the Koran, the hadith, the ravings of modern Islamists, or from the plaints of their victims, makes a bit of difference.)

You’ll need to read the whole thing.

Diversity and Academic Open Mindedness

Tuesday, April 9th, 2013

David Friedman recently discussed diversity and academic open-mindedness with a fellow academic:

It started with my commenting that I thought support for “diversity” in the sense in which the term is usually used in the academic context — having students or faculty from particular groups, in particular blacks but also, in some contexts, gays, perhaps hispanics, perhaps women — in practice anticorrelated with support for the sort of diversity, diversity of ideas, that ought to matter to a university.

I offered my standard example. Imagine that a university department has an opening and is down to two or three well qualified candidates. They learn that one of them is an articulate supporter of South African Apartheid. Does the chance of hiring him go up or down? If the university is actually committed to intellectual diversity, the chance should go up — it is, after all, a position that neither faculty nor students are likely to have been exposed to. In fact, in any university I am familiar with, it would go sharply down.

The response was that that he considered himself very open minded, getting along with people across the political spectrum, but that that position was so obviously beyond the bounds of reasonable discourse that refusing to hire the candidate was the correct response.

The question I should have asked and didn’t was whether he had ever been exposed to an intelligent and articulate defense of apartheid. Having spent my life in the same general environment — American academia — as he spent his, I think the odds are pretty high that he had not been. If so, he was in the position of a judge who, having heard the case for the prosecution, convicted the defendant without bothering to hear the defense. Worse still, he was not only concluding that the position was wrong — we all have limited time and energy, and so must often reach such conclusions on an inadequate basis — he was concluding it with a level of certainty so high that he was willing to rule out the possibility that the argument on the other side might be worth listening to.

An alternative question I might have put to him was whether he could make the argument for apartheid about as well as a competent defender of that system could. That, I think, is a pretty good test of whether one has an adequate basis to reject a position — if you don’t know the arguments for it, you probably don’t know whether those arguments are wrong, although there might be exceptions. I doubt that he could have. At least, in the case of political controversies where I have been a supporter of the less popular side, my experience is that those on the other side considerably overestimate their knowledge of the arguments they reject.

Margaret Thatcher

Monday, April 8th, 2013

Margaret Thatcher was certainly an interesting person:

Born Margaret Roberts on Oct. 13, 1925, in the Lincolnshire market town of Grantham to Alfred and Beatrice Roberts, Mrs. Thatcher was schooled from an early age in an ethic of hard work and self-reliance. She grew up in a house with no hot water and an outdoor toilet. Her father, a Methodist lay preacher, was active in local politics and a major early influence.

“He taught her, don’t go with the herd if you think that the herd is wrong,” said Sir Bernard Ingham, who served as Mrs. Thatcher’s press secretary for 11 years.

His interest in politics also provided the books and newspapers which would stimulate her own. The brutalities of World War II and the accounts of a young Austrian Jew for whom her father had arranged shelter in Grantham filled her with a hate of all totalitarianism. She later recalled in her autobiography that as a 13-year-old she took on a group of adults, to their “astonishment”, in a prewar fish-and-chip shop queue after one said that at least Adolf Hitler had given Germany back its self-respect.

Mrs. Thatcher attended local state schools at a time when Conservative politicians were still mainly drafted from Britain’s elite private schools. She studied chemistry at Oxford University and spent her early career in research laboratories.

Mrs. Thatcher took power following Britain’s “winter of discontent” of 1978-1979, in which nationwide strikes over pay by public-sector workers from gravediggers to garbage men brought an economy that had for years been growing at half the rate of its peers close to a standstill. In her first two years as prime minister, the nation’s economy shrank and unemployment rose by a million, hovering at three million until the mid-1980s. There was widespread rioting in inner cities as both these conditions and racial tensions fermented dissent.

I can recall watching a documentary on punk rock’s early days, where the situation in England was clearly dreadful, with garbage piled up between buildings, and I found it odd that everyone seemed to blame some kind of conservative Establishment.

Women Are Generally Physically Weaker

Friday, April 5th, 2013

Men run much faster than women — to the point that being in the top five percent of young women would put you just outside the bottom five percent of young men — and men are much stronger than women, too.

Saying this is sexist, of course, and a sign that you shouldn’t be allowed to write female characters:

If you’ve ever had an issue with some of the women’s characters on AMC’s The Walking Dead — the root of the problem might be in the source material. Robert Kirkman, the creator of the comics, definitely has some… issues… with women.

Simon Abrams from the Village Voice reports Kirkman told him in an interview for The Comics Journal four years ago:

I don’t mean to sound sexist, but as far as women have come over the last 40 years, you don’t really see a lot of women hunters. They’re still in the minority in the military, and there’s not a lot of female construction workers. I hope that’s not taken the wrong way. I think women are as smart, resourceful, and capable in most things as any man could be … but they are generally physically weaker. That’s science.

First up, Kirkman, you totally do mean to sound sexist, so shut it with the crappy, disingenuous concern.

Since when do you need massive amounts of strength to hunt, even as they do on The Walking Dead? The average fit person would be good to go — especially if they’d all been living under the same circumstances for so long. Plus, if we want to speak “in general”, then women have more stamina than men — even swole bro trainers agree — and that’s probably more crucial than being ripped when it comes to hunting.

By the way, women do not have more stamina than men:

The average VO2max is about 33 milliliters of oxygen per kilogram of body mass per minute for sedentary young women and around 42 ml/kg/min for sedentary young men (Bouchard et al., Medicine and Science in Sports and Exercise 30: 252-8, 1998). Elite female distance runners can sometimes reach VO2max readings of 70+ ml/kg/min (Pate et al., International Journal of Sports Medicine 8 (Suppl.): 91-5, 1987), whereas elite men can attain values in the 80s (Pollock, Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 301: 310-22, 1977).

Seven Myths About “Women in Combat”

Friday, April 5th, 2013

A retired Marine lieutenant general shares seven myths about “women in combat”:

Myth #1 – “It’s about women in combat.”

No, it’s not. Women are already in combat, and are serving well and professionally. The issue should be more clearly entitled, “Women in the infantry.” And this is a decidedly different proposition.

Myth #2 – “Combat has changed” (often accompanied by “There are no front lines anymore”).

This convenient misconception requires several counters. First, any serious study of military history will reveal numerous historical examples about how successive generations (over millennia) believed that warfare had changed forever, only to find that technology may change platforms, but not its harsh essence. To hope that conflicts over the last 20 years are models of a new, antiseptic form of warfare is delusional.

The second point is that the enemy gets a vote — time, place, and style. For example, war on the Korean Peninsula would be a brutal, costly, no-holds-barred nightmare of mayhem in close combat with casualties in a week that could surpass the annual total of recent conflict.

The final point on this myth reinforces the Korea example and it bears examination — Fallujah, Iraq in 2004, where warfare was reduced to a horrific, costly, and exhausting scrap in a destroyed city between two foes that fought to the death.

The standard for ground combat unit composition should be whether social experimentation would have amplified our opportunity for success in that crucible, or diminished it. We gamble with our future security when we set standards for warfare based on the best case, instead of the harshest one.

Myth #3 – “If they pass the physical standards, why not?”

Physical standards are important, but not nearly all of the story. Napoleon — “The moral (spirit) is to the physical as three is to one.”

Unit cohesion is the essence of combat power, and while it may be convenient to dismiss human nature for political expediency, the facts are that sexual dynamics will exist and can affect morale. That may be manageable in other environments, but not in close combat.

Any study of sexual harassment statistics in this age cohort — in the military, academia, or the civilian workplace — are evidence enough that despite best efforts to by sincere leaders to control the issue, human instincts remain strong. Perceptions of favoritism or harassment will be corrosive, and cohesion will be the victim.

Myth #4 – “Standards won’t be lowered.”

This is the cruelest myth of all. The statements of the current chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff are telling.

They essentially declare “guilty until proven innocent” on anyone attempting to maintain the standards which produced the finest fighting force in the world. There are already accommodations (note that unit cohesion won’t be a metric), there will be many more, and we will pay a bloody price for it someday.

Pity the truthful leader who attempts to hold to standards based on realistic combat factors, and tells truth to power. Most won’t, and the others won’t survive.

Myth #5 – “Opening the infantry will provide a better pathway to senior rank for the talented women.”

Not so. What will happen is that we will take very talented females with unlimited potential and change their peer norm when we inject them into the infantry.

Those who might meet the infantry physical standard will find that their peers are expected, as leaders, to far exceed it (and most of their subordinates will, as well).

So instead of advancing to a level appropriate to their potential, they may well be left out.

Myth #6 – “It’s a civil rights issue, much like the integration of the armed forces and allowing gays to serve openly.”

Those who parrot this either hope to scare honest and frank discussion, or confuse national security with utopian ideas.

In the process, they demean initiatives that were to provide equally skilled individuals the opportunity to contribute equally. In each of the other issues, lowered standards were not the consequence.

Myth #7 – “It’s just fair.”

Allow me two points.

First, this is ground warfare we’re discussing, so realism is important.

“Fair” is not part of the direct ground combat lexicon.

Direct ground combat, such as experienced in the frozen tundra of Korea, the rubble of Stalingrad, or the endless 30-day jungle patrols against a grim foe in Viet Nam, is the harshest meritocracy — with the greatest consequences — there is.

And psychology in warfare is germane — the force that is respected (and, yes, feared) has a distinct advantage.

Will women in our infantry enhance a psychological advantage, or hinder it?

Second, if it’s about fairness, why do women get a choice of whether to serve in the infantry (when men do not), and why aren’t they required to register for the draft (as men are)?

It may be that we live in a society in which honest discussion of this issue, relying on facts instead of volume, is not possible. If so, our national security will fall victim to hope instead of reality. And myths be damned.

How Debt Ruins Systems

Wednesday, April 3rd, 2013

Taleb explains how debt ruins systems — in contrast to other, more flexible forms of financing:

You’re going to Aleppo, Syria, and Florence and you’re going to send me some silk. You trust me, and my correspondent in Aleppo would pay you the minute I get my silk — that kind of transaction. That’s called letter of credit, where you have debt conditional on some commercial transaction being completed. And it also allows people to finance some inventory, provided the buyer is a committed buyer. That kind of facilitation of commerce is how it all started — the letter of credit — and it developed very well.

Before that we had debt in society and it led to blowups in Babylon, and then they had to have debt jubilees. Then of course the Hebrews also had debt jubilees. And of course, they say neither a borrower nor a lender be. The Romans didn’t like debt. The Greeks didn’t like debt, except for a few intellectuals. Intellectuals for some reason, like Mr. Krugman, like debt.

Later on debt came back to Europe with the Reformation and it was mostly to finance wars. The industrial revolution was not financed by debt. California was not financed by debt; it was financed by equity. So debt is not necessary. You can use it for emergencies. Catholic societies — Aquinas was against debt and his statements were stronger than the Islamic fatwa against debt.

We have learned through history that debt in the form of leverage can blow things up. Debt fragilizes. Now what we have had in this economy is a growth of debt mostly financed indirectly by governments. Because if you blow up, we’re going to be behind you.

The Morris Theorem

Saturday, March 30th, 2013

This profile of Ian Morris boils down his thinking to a simple Morris Theory of social behavior:

“Change is caused by lazy, greedy, frightened people looking for easier, more profitable, and safer ways to do things.” These people are much the same everywhere. Their societies develop along similar paths. Geography explains different outcomes. “Maps, not chaps,” as Morris likes to say.

“The agency of individuals actually matters much less than historians tend to assume,” Morris tells me. “It’s hard to find any examples of decisions made by single individuals that really changed the big story very much — until you get into the 20th century, when you’ve got nuclear weapons.”

The Evolution of War

Friday, March 29th, 2013

Ian Morris describes the evolution of war:

War and governance have co-evolved across the last 15,000 years, but much remains unclear about the process because historical narratives have not been integrated well into social-scientific analyses. Under the conditions of circumscription/caging that emerged in a few places after the ice age, war became productive, in the sense of producing larger, safer, richer societies. However, the larger states produced by war changed the environment around them, and for more than 1,000 years war turned counterproductive in the places that it had previously been productive, breaking up large states. After about 1400 CE a new phase of productive war began. This too began turning counterproductive in the 20th century CE. The most important question for the 21st century is whether productive war is currently mutating into a new form.

Read the whole thing.

War Forges Civilization

Thursday, March 28th, 2013

Warfare has transformed us from living in villages to living in huge states, Peter Turchin argues — ultimately making our lives more peaceful:

First, the critical glue that holds societies together is cooperation. Second, the reason humans learned how to cooperate is — paradoxically — warfare, lethal conflict between groups. And third, by creating a selective pressure for ever-larger societies warfare will eventually put itself out of business, when we learn to cooperate at the level of the whole humanity.

When he argued this at a public debate, the audience sounded voted for the opposing side. War is bad, after all.

His first two points seem reasonable. His third reminds me of the underwear gnomes’ business plan — or Marx’s notion that the state will wither away under true Communism. (Unless we can expect an alien invasion…)

Humans are ultrasocial (his first point), and the logic for why (his second point) is simple:

Groups of people who can’t cooperate to put together an army, will be overrun by those who can. The result is that genetic and cultural traits for noncooperation will go extinct.

More generally, cooperative traits are spread by the process of group selection. Selfish traits win in competition within groups, but altruistic, cooperative traits are favored by competition between groups. If between groups selection is strong enough, cooperative traits will spread.

Human groups can compete in many ways, but historically the most extreme form of such competition has been warfare. Warfare is the main engine of social evolution and it explains how small bands of hunter-gatherers (a few dozen people) evolved over the last 10,000 years into the huge societies of today. Because warfare pushes cooperating groups to become larger. As Napoleon said, “God favors big battalions.” The tribe that could mobilize more warriors had a better chance of surviving in war. This is the basic logic that drove the evolution of ever greater societies and states, and ever greater scale of warfare.

The story is of course much more complex than that. First, before warfare could do its thing, humans had to invent agriculture. Agriculture is a necessary condition for the evolution of truly complex societies. Why is absolutely obvious, and all scientists, including the participants of this debate, agree on it. But agriculture is only a necessary, not sufficient condition — many regions of the world had agriculture for milennia and did not make the transition to complex societies until they were colonized by European Great Powers.

Second, evolution had to solve a multitude of problems in order to ensure that large societies would not simply split apart at the seams (in fact, most early states and empires did just that). So such cultural traits as monumental architecture; records, writing, and literacy; division of labor; professional bureaucracies, taxation, and formal legal systems; state rituals and ideologies, and so on, evolved to enable megasocieties to function without falling apart. But the fundamental driver was warfare.

However not any kind of warfare has this ‘creative’ nature. It doesn’t matter how many people are killed, what is important is the high chance of group extinction. This is what drives social evolution. In the mountains, for example, warfare does not drive evolution of social complexity. So you lose a battle, but you can always survive by retreating to a mountain fastness. The chance of extinction is small, and in rugged areas complex societies do not evolve. The opposite thing happens. People living there evolve away from the state.

In the plains, on the other hand, if you lose the war, you are history.

Although large societies fight big wars, citizens in such societies have a much lesser chance of being killed by other human beings:

One reason is that strong states suppress internal warfare, banditry, and murder. Another is that among hunter-gatherers everybody (at least, all males) had to be a warrior, but in large-scale societies, typically, only a small proportion fights in wars. The chances that you or I will get killed are much smaller.

More importantly, social evolution molded humans in ways that reduce violence. Earlier I mentioned that most people have a very strong aversion to killing fellow human beings. It was the same at the dawn of humanity, except ‘fellow human beings’ were only those personally known to you — relatives and friends. Or members of your tribe. Others were subhumans who needed to be exterminated.

Turchin cites Ian Morris (Why the West Rules — For Now):

The late historical sociologist Charles Tilly coined the phrase, “war made the state, and the state made war.”

Ian Morris prefers a different variant: “war made the state, and the state made peace.”

This is an uncomfortable conclusion:

But nobody proposes that we administer a “healthy dose” of “blood and iron” (to use the immortal phrase of the Prussian Chancellor Otto von Bismarck) to encourage state building in such places as equatorial Africa. In fact, many African countries are already mired in an endless cycle of war. Not only such violence causes a huge amount of human misery, it has done nothing for bringing about more effective governance. On the contrary, in a number of places warfare destroyed the last vestiges of state-level organization.

So, there are productive and unproductive wars. The Lucky Latitudes, where agriculture took off early, on balance favored productive war:

The size of empires increased during the Bronze and Iron Ages (roughly, the second and first milennia BC).

Empires Sizes Over Time

It increased especially rapidly during the centuries between 800 and 200 BC. Then it stopped increasing. Ian actually suggests that the size of empires decreased between 1 AD and 1415 AD. It doesn’t look that way to me, but it is undeniable that the size of largest empires stopped increasing — empires rose and collapsed but the areas they controlled at the peak oscillated around 3 million square kilometers — the size of modern India or Argentina. The two peaks you see in the eighth and thirteenth centuries are the Islamic Caliphate and the Mongolian Empire of Chinggis Khan and his successors. Neither was sustained for very long.

Ian’s conclusion is that before 1 BC warfare in the Lucky Latitudes was, on balance, productive, but between 1 AD and the end of the Middle Ages it was (again, on balance) counterproductive. The culprit was the horse nomad from the steppes. As Ian says in the Cliodynamics article, “the success of the empires of the Eurasian lucky latitudes had changed the meanings of geography in radical ways, with disastrous results.” The rise of steppe pastoralists, and their disastrous effect on the agrarian societies, was a kind of a ‘blowback’ response when the great agrarian empires overreached themselves.

It’s not war in itself that is either productive or unproductive, but competition between groups and societies:

Violence is unproductive when it pitches people against other people within societies, taking forms such as murders between individual people or civil war between organized groups. It can be ‘productive,’ despite killing people and destroying property, when it is whole societies fighting other societies. But the key is not killing people, it’s between-group selection — competition that eliminates societies, whose members are unable to cooperate with each other, or to invent and adopt innovations and acquire or sustain prosocial norms and institutions. It’s not being good at killing.

[...]

Conversely, high rates of violence, as those found in the Inuit (where 30 percent of adult male deaths were due to murders), or incessant between-village warfare in New Guinea and the Amazon (Yanomami!) have been completely unproductive for the evolution of large-scale cohesive and productive societies.

Red White

Wednesday, March 27th, 2013

As the chief architect of the Bretton Woods monetary system, Harry Dexter White, then a little-known U.S. Treasury official, outmaneuvered his brilliant British counterpart, John Maynard Keynes, to produce a New Deal for a new world that protected American interests — and Soviet interests:

Over the course of 11 years, beginning in the mid-1930s, White acted as a Soviet mole, giving the Soviets secret information and advice on how to negotiate with the Roosevelt administration and advocating for them during internal policy debates. White was arguably more important to Soviet intelligence than Alger Hiss, the U.S. State Department official who was the most famous spy of the early Cold War.

The truth about White’s actions has been clear for at least 15 years now, yet historians remain deeply divided over his intentions and his legacy, puzzled by the chasm between White’s public views on political economy, which were mainstream progressive and Keynesian, and his clandestine behavior on behalf of the Soviets. Until recently, the White case has resembled a murder mystery with witnesses and a weapon but no clear motive.

Now we have one. The closest thing to a missing link between the official White and the secret White is an unpublished handwritten essay on yellow-lined notepaper that I found buried in a large folder of miscellaneous scribblings in White’s archives at Princeton University. Apparently missed by his previous chroniclers, it provides a fascinating window onto the aspirations and mindset of this intellectually ambitious overachiever at the height of his power, in 1944.

In the essay, hazily titled “Political-Economic Int. of Future,” White describes a postwar world in which the Soviet socialist model of economic organization, although not supplanting the American liberal capitalist one, would be ascendant. “In every case,” he argues, “the change will be in the direction of increased [government] control over industry, and increased restrictions on the operations of competition and free enterprise.” Whereas White believed in democracy and human rights, he consistently downplayed both the lack of individual liberty in the Soviet Union (“The trend in Russia seems to be toward greater freedom of religion. . . . The constitution of [the] USSR guarantees that right”) and the Soviets’ foreign political and military adventurism (“The policy pursued by present day Russia [is one] of not actively supporting [revolutionary socialist] movements in other countries”).

In the essay, White argues that the West is hypocritical in its demonization of the Soviet Union. He urges the United States to draw the Soviets into a tight military alliance in order to deter renewed German and Japanese aggression. But such an alliance, White lamented, faced formidable obstacles: “rampant imperialism” in the United States, hiding under “a variety of patriotic cloaks”; the country’s “very powerful Catholic hierarchy,” which might “well find an alliance with Russia repugnant”; and groups “fearful that any alliance with a socialist country cannot but strengthen socialism and thereby weaken capitalism.”

After sweeping away internal politics, religion, and foreign policy as honest sources of Western opposition to the Soviet Union, White concludes that the true foundation of the conflict must be economic ideology. “It is basically [the] opposition of capitalism to socialism,” he writes. “Those who believe seriously in the superiority of capitalism over socialism” — a group from which White apparently excluded himself — “fear Russia as the source of socialist ideology.” He then ends his essay with what, coming from the U.S. government’s most important economic strategist, can only be described as an astounding conclusion: “Russia is the first instance of a socialist economy in action. And it works!”

It turns out that the chief designer of the postwar global capitalist financial architecture saw Soviet behavior through rose-colored glasses not simply because he believed that the Soviet Union was a vital U.S. ally but because he also believed passionately in the success of the bold Soviet experiment with socialism.

I am shocked — shocked! — to find that a mainstream progressive supported Soviet Communism.

(Hat tip to Foseti, who notes that none of this was unknown at the time, but only crazy people believed it.)

The Glue that Binds

Wednesday, March 27th, 2013

As a professor, Peter Turchin finds himself strong-armed into attending graduation every few years, which reminds him of his childhood in Soviet Moscow, where he and his neighbors had to line the streets and welcome visiting dignitaries.

After meeting anthropologist Harvey Whitehouse though, he finds such rituals make a certain kind of sense:

A ritual is something that takes place at two levels. There are surface reasons why people do it, but much more important is the deeper, concealed layer, “the hidden side of things” to which I referred in the beginning of the post.

Consider a ritual such as Mardi Gras, in which I participated on numerous occasions when I lived in Louisiana. It’s a lot of fun — parades, music, dancing, feasting, drinking to excess, and (reportedly) wild sex!

In the anthropologist jargon, this is a “euphoric” ritual. Such rituals are extremely common in human societies, they could even be a universal feature (well, there are exceptions, such as Jean Calvin’s Geneva, but they don’t last long). The reason people take part in such euphoric rituals is because it’s fun. But there is also a much more important – hidden – reason, about which the participants don’t have any inklings. Such rituals make people feel connected to each other. They provide a quintessential psychological glue that binds a community together, and makes it much more capable of collective action. And, naturally, communities that are socially cohesive will be much more likely to survive in the competition against other, less cohesive groups.

This logic of cultural group selection is even clearer when we consider the opposite kind of ritual, which Harvey and other anthropologists call ‘dysphoric’, involving painful, frightening, disgusting, or humiliating features. It’s easy enough to understand why people flock to a Mardi Gras celebration, but why is hazing in the military or fraternities so prevalent and difficult to eradicate? Why do initiates agree to undergo painful, degrading, and even life-risking ordeals?

It turns out that the answer, when we look not for a proximate, surface explanation, but for an ultimate, deep and evolutionary one, is the same. Shared experience in dysphoric rituals results in incredibly strong ties binding the group into one cohesive whole. This is why the military puts recruits through the boot camps. Unit cohesion and willingness to sacrifice one’s life for buddies makes for an army that will fight effectively and defeat its less cohesive opponents.
This means that rituals are not simply actions performed for their ‘symbolic value.’ Rather, rituals are psychological devices for building up social cohesion. On the surface, a ritual could be fun, or alternatively, an harrowing ordeal, but at the deeper level they all serve the same function – making groups more internally cohesive so they can more effectively compete against other groups.

Speaking of the graduation procession, he adds, it’s quite remarkable how we humans enjoy moving synchronously with others.