Caliban Darklock wrote this in the early morning:
Before I get started on Russ Nelson’s latest post, I want to address the prior one.
The Libertarian Purity Test consists of sixty-four “yes” or “no” questions. If you answer “yes” to all of them, you get a perfect score. So a perfect score means nothing. Bryan Caplan, the author, has outright said that the test was just for fun.
I got a 110. The test was actually quite accurate in predicting that my score would increase over time, but I think any intelligent person tends to become more libertarian over time.
That aside, on to the question of faith in economics.
Economics is unique among the sciences in that it’s predictive power is completely and utterly useless in directing one’s actions. Economically, we can say that something will happen. Oh, dear; that sucks. What can we do to change it?
Well, nothing. It’s going to happen. No single entity can change that. The energy necessary to make the change can’t be exerted before it happens. Furthermore, that energy requires the concerted action of millions of consumers.
People hate that. They especially hate it when the prediction is right. And it’s the same kind of hatred they have for religious pronouncements: “God watches you and judges your life.” “That’s horrible! How do I stop it?!” “You don’t.”
In general, people hate the idea that they aren’t able to take charge of their own lives. The concept of things being beyond their control offends them on a deep level. This is precisely why people are always arguing with Scott Adams about free will. We like the idea of controlling our own destiny. (In the anime series Naruto, this concept is at the heart of the rivalry between Neji Hyuga and Naruto Uzumaki. I shouldn’t know that. Damn Cartoon Network and their Naruto marathon on Sunday!)
Since economics reminds us that we can’t do so completely, there’s an inherent knee-jerk rejection of the field, just as there’s an inherent knee-jerk rejection of most religious pronouncements. Both religion and economics demand that we accept the futility of trying to alter reality.
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