Thoughts on Marc Andreessen’s IT’S TIME TO BUILD

Way way back in April of 2020, a venture capitalist named Marc Andreessen wrote an all-caps exhortation to western (particularly American) institutions and individuals: IT’S TIME TO BUILD. It’s a quick read, so I do recommend it. If that’s out of the question, you can get the gist from the opening paragraphs:

Every Western institution was unprepared for the coronavirus pandemic, despite many prior warnings. This monumental failure of institutional effectiveness will reverberate for the rest of the decade, but it’s not too early to ask why, and what we need to do about it.

Many of us would like to pin the cause on one political party or another, on one government or another. But the harsh reality is that it all failed — no Western country, or state, or city was prepared — and despite hard work and often extraordinary sacrifice by many people within these institutions. So the problem runs deeper than your favorite political opponent or your home nation.

Part of the problem is clearly foresight, a failure of imagination. But the other part of the problem is what we didn’t *do* in advance, and what we’re failing to do now. And that is a failure of action, and specifically our widespread inability to *build*.

We see this today with the things we urgently need but don’t have. We don’t have enough coronavirus tests, or test materials — including, amazingly, cotton swabs and common reagents. We don’t have enough ventilators, negative pressure rooms, and ICU beds. And we don’t have enough surgical masks, eye shields, and medical gowns — as I write this, New York City has put out a desperate call for rain ponchos to be used as medical gowns. Rain ponchos! In 2020! In America!

Marc Andreessen, “IT’S TIME TO BUILD”

Andreessen’s blog post is very good, even if it’s mostly an extended rallying cry. I think it was also very timely, as it alludes to a few subtextual themes I’m seeing come up more and more in politics:

  1. The US economy is increasingly concerned with rent extraction and distribution as opposed to genuinely productive economic activity, the latter having been off-shored to a great extent. The dollars-and-cents economic benefits of doing so aren’t really up for debate, but in social and political terms, the trade-off is looking less appealing these days. Prediction: interest in industrial policy is going to (continue to) increase among the right and possibly the left.
  2. Proceeding from a default assumption of capital scarcity is maybe not a smart way to make policy anymore. We are awash in money and not averse to printing more or deficit spending when the mood strikes. Obviously there’s a limit to how long you can get away with stuff like that, but if we can fight endless wars perhaps we can also fix a few roads.
  3. Maybe democracy is the problem? Others responded to Andreessen’s blog post by pointing out that there are political impediments to building as aggressively as Andreessen would like. Vox’s editor in chief, Ezra Klein, writes that American institutions public and private have become “vetocracies,” meaning that they’re biased against action instead of in its favor. Similarly, Steven Buss notes in Exponents Magazine that entrenched interests have captured regulators, making building, in many cases, illegal. Homeowners, for example, are hostile to development and form a powerful local political constituency.

    The thing is… isn’t this basically just policymakers being tuned into the desires of their constituents—or at least those inclined to make their voices heard? The only people who care enough to show up at a zoning meeting are the homeowners who don’t want the high-rise going in across the street. Professions lobby to be licensed so as to increase their income and limit competition, but members of the public generally don’t care enough to show up at the state house with a pitchfork.

    This is just the way it’s going to be, so maybe the answer is a system that doesn’t particularly care what its constituents have to say—or at least cares less in areas prone to regulatory capture.
  4. Finally, America’s ailments extend beyond the realms of economics and technocratic governance. Ours is a crisis of imagination, spirit, and mythology, exacerbated by the collapse of social capital across much of the nation. Consider the following anecdote1:

    In 1869, a businessman named George Atwater set out to install a network of rails throughout the city of Springfield, MA—from where I write presently—on which horses would pull carriages, a pre-electric trolley system. It seemed like such a ridiculous idea the board of alderman laughed as they gave him permission and mocked him with an “initial investment” of eleven cents.

    Atwater built it anyway, and it turned out to be a huge success, expanding throughout the city and surpassing an annual ridership of 1 million by 1883. In 1890, less than a decade after the first electric power stations were built, the Springfield rail system began electrifying routes. By the next summer, all lines had been converted from horse to electric power. By 1904, ridership was 19 million; by 1916 it was 44 million.

    All of this—bold, successful investment in infrastructure, the rapid adoption of new technology, reliable and profitable public transportation—is technically possible today, yet this story could never take place in 2020. The alderman would have dragged their feet, insisted on handouts to favored constituencies, and requested a handful of impact studies. Atwater would have stuck his investment in the stock market. The story would not have taken place here, because Springfield, like many former manufacturing cities, is in many ways a husk of its formerly productive self. Atwater would have lived in San Francisco, Boston, or New York.

Andreessen is right. It’s time to build. But let’s go broader than that: It’s time for a general return to alacrity in the public and private spheres, particularly for those of us who don’t live in one of the nexuses of the new economy. It’s time to rebuild social capital. It’s time to turn off autopilot.

Let’s fucking go.

###

  1. I came across this story in Lost Springfield, a local history book by Derek Strahan, who blogs at lostnewengland.com. I really enjoyed the book, so if you’re interested in the region’s history, I’d check out Strahan’s work.

Massachusetts Cities and Coronavirus

Last week, I put together a few graphs of Massachusetts covid-19 county cases and correlates. Unfortunately, working at the county level didn’t create many data points, so there wasn’t much insight to be gained. I ended the blog post with a wishy-washy pledge to maybe try to compile a city-level data set.

Well, I didn’t do it. But the Massachusetts Department of Public Health did! Starting April 15, the DPH began tracking coronavirus cases in Massachusetts’s 351 towns and cities. I took those case counts and paired them with demographic and economic data from the 2018 American Community Survey to see if any patterns emerged.

Due to some quirks of the Census, it would have been really tedious to get the data I wanted for every town and city. I ended up opting for a shortcut of sorts — using cities and towns that were their own Census Designated Place. (Don’t ask.) After all was said and done, I was left with 54 cities and towns that I could pair with data from the 2018 American Community Survey.

This data set is biased toward larger areas, which probably also means younger and more diverse areas too. And, of course, all cities and towns in the set are from Massachusetts, which probably introduces other biases.

Anyway, here’s what I’ve found so far:

(Note: I’m using log-scale to condense case counts and, in the case below, population. Boston, for example, has over 4,000 cases [log(4,000) = 3.602], while Springfield has about 600 [log(600) = 2.778].)

Log cases are best predicted by log population. This is pretty much common sense: more people means more vectors for disease, and usually denser population. A regression summary is in the caption below the graph.

log(Cases) = 1.3472 * log(population) – 4.0471
R^2 = .7526
p-value < 2.2e-16

After population, race is the next-best indicator of case counts. I’d expected — based on media reports and the word of local officials — to find a relationship between the percentage of black or Hispanic residents and log cases. But that didn’t really show up. Instead, the proportion of residents that are non-Hispanic whites has the best linear relationship to log cases — and the only one with a negative slope. The regression summary statistics in the caption are only for the white-log case relationship.

log(cases) = -1.8623 * white + 3.5474
R^2 = .545
p-value: 1.887e-10

This does actually fit the narrative pretty nicely if we lump all non-white ethnic groups together mentally. But as I noted in the last post, race is collinear with so many other variables that it’s hard to know what we’re seeing.

There is, however, at least some indication that what we’re observing might really be about race. Other variables we would imagine to correlate to race and population have much weaker relationships to case counts. (“Public transport” is the percentage of people who take public transport to work, and “Poverty line” is the percentage of people below the poverty line.) I grabbed a bunch of variables like these, but so far, none of them are very helpful in explaining what’s going on.

Combining log population and the proportion of residents who are white gives us an adjusted R^2 of .8209, which is nice. But when I tried to use that model to predict case counts for four municipalities that weren’t among the 54 I’d defaulted into working with, it only did okay.

The problem, I think, is that the selection of cities in the data set I’m working with is biased toward larger areas. It’s also possible (in fact, likely) that there’s both more to the story and that an element of randomness is at play, too. Aside from age, it’s been hard for professionals to isolate significant risk factors.

A few MA covid graphs

This is a low-stakes post.

Massachusetts has been releasing county-level coronavirus case counts, which I paired with data from the US Census to look for patterns. I actually didn’t end up finding anything particularly interesting, but some of the graphs are nice, so I thought I’d share.

On case growth

A few days ago, it looked like the growth of covid cases in Massachusetts might be flattening. But as of yesterday, it seems like that’s not quite the case across the board. Here are the total case counts per 1,000 residents of each county county since March 15:

Dukes and Nantucket counties omitted.

And here are cases per 1,000 residents on April 7, with the geometric growth rate of cases over the last week indicated by color:

Growth rate calculated as (x_1/x_0)^(1/7)-1

Berkshire, Barnstable, and Franklin counties have the lowest case growth rates, ranging from 6.2% to 7.3% on average per day over the last week. These counties have some common characteristics:

  • They’re geographically remote;
  • They are the only MA counties to have experienced population decline over the last decade;
  • They have the highest non-Hispanic white populations per capita and the least foreign residents;
  • They have the greatest proportion of residents over 65 (at least 22% in each case!);
  • Franklin and Berkshire counties have the lowest population densities, at 102 and 141 people per square mile, respectively.

To me, the above is consistent with the idea that economic activity is a vector for the spread of coronavirus (not literally, but it gets people in contact which causes person-person transmission).

Plymouth, Hampden, and Bristol are the counties with the fastest-growing case counts, each of them averaging an increase of over 11% daily over the last week. These counties don’t have much in common, so I’m having trouble putting together a potential unifying narrative.

Race and population density as correlates

It’s starting to look like black Americans might be more susceptible to coronavirus than other racial and ethnic groups. At first glance, that appears to show up in county-level data. But upon closer examination, that doesn’t appear to be the case — first because population density and the percentage of black residents are collinear, and population per square mile has a higher correlation coefficient; and second because Suffolk county (Boston) is influencing the linear relationship in both cases. Adjusted R-squared drops heavily if we exclude Suffolk county from the data set. (Race and population density were the best predictors I found of cases per 1,000 residents.)

This isn’t to say race and its many correlates aren’t good predictors. I think it speaks more to the (severe) limits of the data set I’m working with. If I have time, I may try to build a city-level data set. If anyone knows of one (or something better), link me!

Should we be surprised that “young people” make up a substantial amount of coronavirus cases?

I’ve noticed media outlets are reporting that young adults make up a significant share of coronavirus cases with an air of incredulity.

My local paper posted on Facebook that “More than 50% of coronavirus cases in Massachusetts are people under the age of 50.” Very similarly, the Pittsburgh Post Gazette writes that “more than half of Pennsylvania’s confirmed COVID-19 patients are under 50 years old.” The New York Times, for its part, reports that “nearly 40 percent of patients sick enough to be hospitalized were age 20 to 54.” *

I can’t decide if this is a psyop to get young people to take the epidemic more seriously (as numerous spring-break photos show they should) or genuine surprise. If it’s the latter, I’m not sure if that’s warranted.

In each case, the age ranges in question are massive and not very meaningful without comparison to the age distribution of the general population. For example, in Massachusetts, about 63% of the population is under the age of 50. So if the incidence of coronavirus were age-independent, we might actually expect more cases among people under 50.

I think the issue, then, is that people seem to be assuming prevalence of the virus should be age-dependent to a higher degree than we’re observing. Maybe there’s a good Bayesian case to be made for this null hypothesis; I don’t know. But I feel like laypeople — local papers included — ought to be preceding with the assumption of age-independence, especially because we still don’t have much information.

Also, what’s going on with the under-20 crowd, which makes up 23% of the population but only 2.2% of MA coronavirus cases? Is Gen Z+ holding out on us?

The typo in the y-axis comes from the MA DPH data set, which has decided there are no 19-year-olds in the Bay State.

* This isn’t as egregious as the other two examples. It’s still a huge age range: about 48% of America is between the ages of 20 and 54. But since we’re talking about the severity of symptoms and hospitalizations, it seems much more noteworthy.

Armchair Psych: Why Elizabeth Warren’s Loss Inspires “Fury and Grief”

You may have noticed that Senator Elizabeth Warren has suspended her campaign for president after a disappointing showing in the Democratic primary. You may have also noticed that some people are very upset. A small sample:

I do believe Warren’s loss is particularly painful for her supporters — and not just those in the media. I’m going to bend my rule about not discussing electoral politics on this blog so I can offer an armchair psychologist take on why Elizabeth Warren’s defeat has inspired such “fury and grief.” The usual disclaimers apply, probably more than usual.

#Goals

The first piece of the puzzle is that Warren’s supporters strongly identify with and admire her. Unlike, say, Bernie Sanders or Joe Biden, who are both personally wealthy and powerful but enjoy substantial support from the middle and lower classes, Elizabeth Warren actually has a lot in common with her supporters: white, highly educated professionals.

She is like them, only more so: a veteran of prestigious institutions from Boston to D.C., impeccably credentialed and accomplished, with grandchildren and a $12 million net worth to boot. She is “having it all” made flesh, an avatar of success. This encourages supporters to project themselves onto Warren. Their parasocial relationship makes her loss harder to deal with because it feels like a personal rejection, and in some ways, it is.

Technocracy and its True believers

Understanding Warren and her supporters as ideological technocrats is essential to making sense of their dismay at her poor performance. A technocrat’s authority is legitimized by displaying expertise, of which Warren did plenty. Her frequent allusions to her competence and preparedness — she has “a plan for that!” — are a straightforward appeal to technocratic ethos.

But raw displays of expertise are not the only route toward technocratic legitimacy, and indeed, few will have the occasion to put forth arcane “plans” to remake society and be taken seriously (though that is the dream). Expertise and the authority it grants can also be obtained through association with prestigious institutions.

Within these places, advancement, evaluation, and remuneration of personnel are typically formulaic matters. (For an example, check out the salary schedule for foreign service officers. Another is how public school teachers’ salaries are calculated.) This is a superficial gesture to the ideals of fairness and objectivity. The impersonality and aversion to qualitative data it necessitates are regarded as features, not bugs, of bureaucracy.

The reason this is important isn’t because Elizabeth Warren spent her career in such places. It’s because her supporters have too. These ideas are not only intuitive to them, they are fundamental, ethical truths. Elizabeth Warren deserves the job. She spent a lifetime earning it.

Whether or not the world should work this way is an open question. But to convince yourself this is the only morally valid way it could work, as Warren supporters seem to have, is an error in judgement. In practical terms, it’s a really poor model for understanding how actual voters make decisions about political leadership in a democracy. Presidential hopefuls wouldn’t be subjecting themselves to the Iowa State Fair if the election could be decided by a resume-scanning software.

The technocratic path and its costs

The technocratic path to power is not merely a career plan; it’s a full-blown ideology with ideas about what’s valuable, what constitutes a good life, and who deserves what. But underneath it lies the universal, deeply held human desire for esteem.

Recall that Elizabeth Warren is an aspirational figure for the upper-middle class, which defines itself by its intellect and is preoccupied with the markings thereof. Her path is their path, the Gramscian march that culminates in power and respect. Her decisive failure to obtain their platonic form, then, calls into question the legitimacy of the rules they’ve been playing by and the immense sacrifices doing so requires.

If giving years of your life and hundreds of thousands of dollars to the machine doesn’t buy you unquestioned esteem, what’s the point? You could have relaxed more, could have taken a job that actually paid and bought a house. You could have just pulled a Scott Alexander and exorcised your passions in a blog! But time only goes forward, so the present and future have to justify the past.

Status quo bias and sexism

Last item of note. The portrayal of Warren’s sound defeat as sexism is as predictable as it is unfalsifiable. But for the purposes of this blog post, we’re not really interested in if it’s true so much as the idea that her supporters want it to be true.

As I see it, sexism provides the least challenging explanation for her failure, not intellectually — it requires some serious mental gymnastics to fit her third-place finish in Massachusetts (among Democratic women!) into that narrative — but personally and philosophically.

If someone is rejected for their immutable qualities, those doing the rejecting can be safely dismissed as bigots, and their opinions need not be taken too seriously. It’s not me; it’s you. The rejection of an ethos is different, because it’s not a repudiation of what you happen to be but rather what you choose to be. It’s harder for Warren supporters to swallow because they share her convictions, part of which is that they possess The Truth (which is why they should be in charge of policy and journalism and academia and human resources and…). This is like the ultimate public repudiation of that.

But most of all, the cure for sexism — no doubt some combination of activism; advocacy; TED Talks; and a ubiquitous, memetic media campaign — requires no change on their part. They’re already doing these things; in fact, there are entire industries and departments, staffed by the Warren demographic, devoted to these endeavors. Insofar as their daily lives are concerned, doubling down on sexism being the problem is activism against change.

Smoking and the Hispanic Paradox

In the course of writing last month’s post about U-haul’s no-nicotine policy, I created the following graph:

This visualization didn’t make the final cut, but it’s nonetheless cool. It demonstrates that smoking rates among Hispanics are far less responsive to income than those of other ethnic groups (though even for Hispanics, the relationship between income and smoking rates is statistically significant). I was surprised to find this relationship, but apparently it’s a known factor of the phenomenon called “the Hispanic Paradox” (alternatively known as the “Latino Paradox”).

The paradox is that, on average, American Hispanics live longer than their non-Hispanic white counterparts, even though the former tend to have lower incomes and less education. The causes aren’t entirely understood, but Hispanics’ low smoking rates are thought to be a major contributor.

Source: Center for Disease Control, 2013

Some of the difference in smoking rates can be explained by immigration. Latin American countries tend to have lower smoking rates than the United States. Among those born in the United States, only Mexican-Ameicans seem to retain lower smoking rates and the attendant mortality advantage over non-Hispanic whites. It will be interesting to see if the Paradox ebbs as native-born Hispanics begin to account for more of the Hispanic population.

The Hispanic Paradox illustrates the capricious power of cultural influence on real-world outcomes — and conversely forces us to confront our limited ability to re-engineer the world.

We tend to think of (the physical, policy, social, or economic) environment and choice as the chief determinants of human behavior and outcomes. But we are just as much a product of the commingling of genetics and culture. The paths before us are well-worn by our predecessors, and we would be arrogant to think we can wholly resist their inclinations.

Review: Bullshit Jobs: A Theory

In 1930, the economist John Keynes predicted that by the century’s end, technology would have advanced such that citizens in rich countries would be working 15-hour weeks. Ninety years later, it’s safe to say that prediction didn’t materialize. In Bullshit Jobs: A Theory, anthropologist David Graeber offers an explanation as to why.

According to Graeber, technological advances had indeed obviated much of the necessary work by the late 20th Century. But for cultural and political reasons, we have filled the void with largely pointless drudgery — bullshit jobs, as Graeber terms them.

A bullshit job is not merely unenjoyable. Rather, it’s “a form of paid employment that is so completely pointless, unnecessary, or pernicious that even the employee cannot justify its existence,” though they’re obliged to pretend otherwise.

They are usually white-collar positions, ranging from corporate lawyers to college administrators to middle managers the world over. Also included are those jobs that exist only to support the “bullshitization” of the economy: the all-night pizza delivers, dog washers, and others whose jobs are only necessary because everyone is too busy working.

At the end of the day, whether or not a job is bullshit is an assessment best left to the employee. According to two surveys conducted in the wake of Graeber’s original essay on the subject, around 40% of (British and Dutch) workers believe their jobs make no meaningful contribution to society. All told, Graeber believes bullshit jobs may comprise over half of all employment.

Meaningless jobs

Here is about where your head should be exploding, because from the mainstream economic perspective, this makes no sense. People and firms are assumed to be utility maximizing, so the idea that companies are hiring droves of pointless workers evokes some serious cognitive dissonance.

Graeber offers a few complementary explanations for why companies would do this. The easiest one to engage with is the idea that the nature of the economy changed when it underwent financialization. The name of the game is no longer the production of goods or services that people need or want. Instead, many companies are preoccupied with rent-seeking and redistributing wealth in a system Graeber calls “corporate feudalism.” As an example of what this entails, he points out that General Motors now derives most of its profits not from selling cars but from interest collected on auto loans.

The economic role of bullshit jobs in corporate feudalism is to make operations less efficient, which, from an extractive standpoint, is preferable. To borrow an analogy from the book, if you make your money dealing with leaky pipes, do you fix them or do you let them continue to leak?

Like its historical predecessor, corporate feudalism is as much a political system as it is an economic one. Graeber describes it as such:

“In the process [of extracting and redistributing resources], one creates an entourage of followers that is both the visible measure of one’s pomp and magnificence, and at the same time, a means of distributing political favor: for instance, by buying off potential malcontents, rewarding faithful allies, or creating an elaborate hierarchy of honors and titles for lower-ranking nobles to squabble over.”

From the micro perspective, then, bullshit jobs serve the political purposes of increasing the prestige of managers and middle managers by adding employees beneath them and ingratiating the middle class with the politics of their bosses. In a more abstract sense, Graeber believes bullshit jobs also preoccupy the masses, who, with time on their hands, could pose a danger to the status quo.

In addition to the financialization of the economy, Graeber attributes the rise of bullshit employment to cultural and political vectors that elevate work to a moral imperative and a rite of passage. He believes we use the misery of the workplace to justify enjoying the fruits of our consumerist culture — meals delivered by GrubHub, Netflix, etc. — which in turn are the only ways we can eke enjoyment out of a life dominated by spiritually numbing make-work.

Work and the misery it often entails, in other words, have become ends in their own rights, not merely means to achieve material subsistence. That explains why we as a society don’t object to the growth of pointless employment and why it can simultaneously be true that most people hate their jobs and derive a sense of dignity and self-worth from them. The result, in Graeber’s words, is that “economies around the world have, increasingly, become vast engines for producing nonsense.”

This might not be so terrible if it didn’t inspire such mental, physical, and spiritual anguish. Bullshit jobs are particularly disillusioning for a members of a society that views work as the primary way we leave a mark on the world. They frustrate an innate human desire to provide meaningful service. Interviewees report depression and fantasies of communist revolutions and climate change-induced apocalypses.

Yet when the time comes to offer a solution, Graeber mostly declines — save for a brief endorsement of universal basic income — claiming that the point of the book is not to make policy recommendations but to begin a discussion about what a genuinely free society might look like.

Praise

Bullshit Jobs: A Theory is unique in that it takes seriously the widely held suspicion that millions of us are, indeed, wasting vast amounts of our time at our desks. At least for me, this felt really relatable. I’ve held and quit (with nothing else lined up) a bullshit job, my fear of financial precarity eventually overwhelmed by self-loathing.

A lot of academic books are anodyne and, well, boring. This book essentially looks the modern economy in the eye and calls it a lie, so it’s not that. It’s a welcome throwback to a more radical, deontological strain of leftist moral philosophy, and given that even Microsoft Japan is beginning to suspect their workers really only need four hours a day in the office, the book feels especially timely.

Graeber uses data sparingly for a text of this size and register, mostly making his case through historical and philosophical appeals. This probably ends up working better than a more data-driven approach — say the kind favored by an economist — would have, since the book deals with a lot of qualitative information and is an exploratory work.

Freedom from mainstream economic dogma is a big part of what makes this book work. For better or worse, Bullshit Jobs flies in the face of economic axioms like revealed preferences and the rational actor model. In some ways, this is a necessary antidote to the usually unstated presumption that the economy can be meaningfully separated from other domains of social life. Other times, it sounds like the ravings of a boomer anarchist. But in both cases, it’s fun.

Criticism

The book is in large part a restatement of Graeber’s original essay on the subject for Strike!, “On the Phenomenon of Bullshit Jobs.” Many of the ways in which he expands on the original essay are probably more interesting to him than the reader. This includes a progressively refined definition of bullshit jobs, a typology of the five kinds of bullshit jobs, and dozens of interviews that take up a lot more real estate than necessary.

Similarly, the decision not to dwell on solutions is frustrating to the reader. I get that it’s fun and cathartic to expound on the ills of society, especially if you’ve got something novel to say. But in this case, Graeber knows we’re familiar with his argument — he even reproduced his original essay in the forward to the book! In the five years separating the Strike! essay from the book, couldn’t he have come up with something in the way of a solution?

To the extent that a solution is offered, it’s universal basic income (UBI). Cool. It’s ironic that Graeber spends much of his book assailing consumerism only to arrive at the policy recommendation that most wholly embraces the idea that most people are only valuable to the economy as consumers.

Graeber imagines that having their basic financial needs met will liberate people to do what interests them (or to not work, should they so choose). But we already have large populations that live under similar conditions, and it doesn’t seem like they’re spiritually flourishing. In fact, they seem pretty miserable, probably because they feel alienated from society.

If bullshit jobs are the matrix’s way of reconciling humans’ desire to contribute with their growing redundancy, maybe the solution is simply better bullshit jobs. It would have been interesting to read Graeber’s recommendations on how the status quo could be improved short of a complete re-imagination of the economy.

Finally, Graeber is way too bullish on education and wayyyy too hard on finance. His contempt for the latter is biblical; the word “usurious” even makes an appearance. Perhaps Graeber has never needed to borrow money. If he had, he might be more open to the idea that lending money to people is actually a very useful service, even if you charge them for the privilege.

Meanwhile, education is often held in contrast to bullshit employment as some sort of paragon of meaningfulness. I suppose that’s Graeber’s right as an academic. But it feels strange to write an entire book about the phenomenon of pointless white-collar employment and not even discuss the rise of higher education as a cause or effect! In my view, increasing educational attainment is quite plausibly: 1) responsible for the overproduction of elites, which in turn creates the cultural demand for bullshit jobs; and 2) an autoimmune response of the economy to that same surplus of white-collar workers (meaning that school is used to delay their entry into the job market while maintaining their consumer status).

And if you want to talk about feudalism, how does the higher education system escape your wrath? Universities are basically hedge funds at this point, and they are quite guilty of indebting their customers, extracting fees and tolls from them, erecting pointless bureaucracies, and “creating an elaborate hierarchy of honors and titles for lower-ranking nobles to squabble over!” Alas.

Should you read this book?

As indicated, I think you could probably get away with just reading the article that inspired the book. If you think you have a bullshit job, and you’re in need of some catharsis, then I’d say go for it. It will probably feel good to know you aren’t alone in your misery.

Cigarette Daydreams

Last week, U-Haul announced that beginning February 1 of this year it would no longer hire nicotine users in the 21 states that permit employers to take that information into account when hiring. To be clear, this covers use outside of the workplace, and it could affect former smokers who use nicotine patches or similar delivery systems.

If you didn’t hear about this, you have my envy and my respect, as it probably indicates that you’re employed and/or don’t spend hours on Twitter, where the topic was briefly trending.

From what I can tell, the reaction has mostly been cynicism about U-Haul wanting to cut healthcare expenses. I think that’s probably true; smokers can indeed be charged higher premiums than non-smokers under the Affordable Care Act, and presumably U-Haul will cover at least some of this.

But since I spent a small chunk of last year’s blog posts talking about selection effects and signalling (most notably here, here, and here), I feel obliged to point out that selecting against smokers is also an effective way to screen for other undesirable qualities in employees. As smoking rates have plunged, smoking has become an increasingly good proxy for a bunch of socioeconomic factors.

(Pardon the use of 2013 data in the following charts; I happened to have this version of the BRFSS on my laptop, and went with it for convenience. I don’t think there’s a good reason the general idea should have changed much in the interceding years.)

For example, smokers, and to a lesser extent, former smokers, miss more days due to their physical or mental health than non-smokers:

Smokers miss more days
The examples given in the BRFSS codebook of “usual activities” are work, self-care, or recreation.

They’re also more likely to have less education and to have lower incomes:

Educational attainment by smoking status

Income bracket by smoking status

Notably, U-Haul is pitching this as a step in “fostering a culture of wellness”:

“We are deeply invested in the well-being of our Team Members,” said U-Haul Chief of Staff Jessica Lopez in a press release. “Nicotine products are addictive and pose a variety of serious health risks. This policy is a responsible step in fostering a culture of wellness at U-Haul, with the goal of helping our Team Members on their health journey.”

So here we have a company policy that is ostensibly for the benefit of employees’ health, but the actual consequences of which will be to save money for the employer and disproportionately preclude the candidacies of many low-SES applicants. Mind you, this is for a job at U-Haul during a period of supposedly record-low unemployment.

I think what bugs me most about this is a feeling (which could be wrong but is at least widespread) that there are diminishing opportunities—especially for low-SES Americans—to participate in the productive side of the economy, which by all indication is something that gives people a sense of meaning and self-respect.

I also can’t shake the feeling that a more powerful or organized constituency would be able to generate some public sympathy in a similar situation. If U-Haul made it policy to deny employment to obese people, presumably to similar effect, there would have been a cascade of outraged NYT opinion pieces and an ACLU lawsuit.

Still more hilarious is the contrast with growing corporate, public, and governmental acceptance (or even endorsement) of marijuana use. A new, publicly announced prohibition on employee use of marijuana would come across as horribly retrograde and likely receive more negative attention.

Smokers, alas, are nearly universally reviled, out of the graces of the upper classes and on the wrong side of demographics.

2019: A short review

With the close of 2019 and the decade, I thought I’d put together a quick highlight reel of the content produced on this blog in the past year. Enjoy the resulting meta-blog post, and if you haven’t already, follow this blog by clicking the button at the bottom of this page.

Top Posts in 2019

The top five most-read blog posts of 2019 were all written in the same year. (That sounds self-evident, but it’s not—some of my older essays remain stubbornly popular, even if I consider them somewhat embarrassing in hindsight.) Here’s the list, with [2019] view counts:

  1. The Kids Are All Right (98)
  2. Summer Vacation to the Southwest (75)
  3. What Colleges Sell (58)
  4. “IRL Impressions” (50)
  5. Birds, Bees, and (Abortion) Bans (48)

It’s hard to infer much from this list, but if I had to guess, it would be an endorsement of graphs and photos—both of which do well on social media and thus bring people to the site. Speaking of which…

Favorite Data Visualizations of 2019

Last year I really leaned into adding data visualizations to these blog posts. This was mostly motivated by a desire to get better at R and statistics. Here are my favorites from this past year, in no particular order:

religious nones

This one is from Kicking Away the Ladder? The rich-world’s flight from religion is one of the defining phenomena of our era. The relationship between religious affiliation and fertility rates, which became one of my favorite topics this year, makes it even more interesting. Also, I think the blue confidence band is pretty.

MGM revenueMarijuana revenue

Both of these graphs are from State of Sin, which looked into the revenue generated by the newly legalized casinos and pot shops across Massachusetts at the end of fiscal year 2019. Mostly, I just think the gap between the state’s expectations and reality is funny. It’s also nice to look at local data. (The MGM casino is two blocks from my apartment.)

One of the cool things I learned from chatting with readers is that the dearth of pot shops across Massachusetts, combined with the ease of growing marijuana in one’s own home, has actually stimulated the “illegal” marijuana market.

abortion any reason

This graph, from Birds, Bees, and (Abortion) Bans, displays the differences (or lack thereof) in men’s and women’s views on whether abortion should be legally attainable for any reason. This is probably my favorite graph of the year, for a few reasons: it contradicts a popular assumption about public opinion, and it effectively and aesthetically displays information. As a bonus, I even managed to throw it and the accompanying essay together while the topic was still hot (during the rash of abortion bans in the summer).

Conservative have more kids

Finally, this year-old graph shows the differences in mean number of children had by men and women of various political persuasions. As I’ve mentioned, I think this is one of the most important political quirks out there. This graph is from The Kids Are All Right, which set an unattainably high bar for essay names.

Improving readership?

As you saw above, there isn’t a tremendous readership at this blog. That’s okay with me, as this is just for fun, but more is obviously preferable! That said, it does seem like this blog has hit its stride in some sense. The site had more views this year than in any other, despite me having only written nine blog posts. That’s efficiency, bay-bee.

Views and posts of eddiethoughts.jpeg
New aesthetic courtesy of ggplot2. Thoughts?

The fact that the blog is doing better by most metrics on a per-post basis leads me to believe that simply writing more would go a long way. Since I, uh, parted ways with my previous employer a little over two weeks ago, I suppose that’s more feasible at the moment than it has been for the last three years.

per post statistics

I’m also up for covering topics that are more interesting to readers, as long as they’re aligned with what I usually write about. (This isn’t about to become a wellness blog or something.) If you have suggestions or requests, get in touch! Use the contact form on the about page or leave a reply below.

Here’s to the new year.