Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts

Sunday, 3 January 2016

An anecdote from a teacher friend


(Paraphrased.)

“I caught a pupil of mine cheating on his history coursework, he’d copied it wholesale. So I told him he couldn’t take his A level. First my boss comes in and asks me to reconsider. I say no. So then my boss comes back with the boy and asks me to reconsider. I say no. Then my boss’s boss comes in with the parents, and ask me to reconsider. You see, the school’s results will look bad if we don’t let him take the exam I say no. Finally, my boss’s boss’s boss comes in. I still say no. I like the kid as a person, but he shouldn’t have cheated."

What lessons can we draw from this? First, obviously, misused incentives are as toxic in the education system as elsewhere. Second, it is an example of how difficult (but crucial!) honesty can be. It involves the drawing of clear lines in a story full of shades of grey. I’m sure the kid was nice, I’m sure his parents thought up excellent reasons why his future shouldn’t be harmed by this one mistake, and that the head teacher made the same eloquent arguments, I bet nobody was crass enough to say “we can’t make our exam results look bad”. I equally bet that nobody pointed out the consequence - which is, after all, highly diffuse, distant and uncertain - that if we turn a blind eye to large-scale cheating, our education system will cease to do its job.

More abstractly, I think this anecdote shows that the theory of repeated games is very misleading as a guide to the social science of ethical behaviour.

Let’s recap: numerous “folk theorems" show that if a situation is repeated often enough among the same group of actors, they can achieve almost any outcome, including efficient outcomes (roughly, those which are best for everyone), by punishing bad behaviour in future rounds of play. This has often been taken as a parable for real world. If only people can interact often enough in stable communities, then they will force each other to do the right thing. So, for instance, Coleman (1988): “Social capital in the creation of human capital”. Or Elinor Ostrom passim. Or Ellickson, Order without law, about midWestern ranchers.

Unfortunately, no. Look at the story. Everyone around my teacher friend is persuading him to do the wrong thing. People in the relevant community have interests that are misaligned with that of the wider society. The pressure they bring to bear is making outcomes worse, not better, and only my friend’s strong personality bears up against them. This will be typical in any social system larger than Hillary Clinton’s proverbial village. To function well, large societies need internalized moral rules, not just social pressure.

Sunday, 6 September 2015

Thursday, 20 August 2015

Honesty in fifteen countries


A sneak preview of my honesty research. I'll have a poster at Decepticon in Cambridge next week.



Wednesday, 29 April 2015

Dishonesty in the US military

This paper is a great sourcebook:

Every contact with the enemy required a storyboard. People did not report enemy contact because they knew the storyboard was useless and they didn’t want to go through the hassle.
It’s odd that in situations that I’ve been in, it’s never been blatant self-interest. It’s never been, “I’m going to get this money so I can buy myself two couches for my office while I’m in Afghanistan.” [Instead], it’s always like—for us, it was hard as hell to get water heaters.... [W]e had to say we’re using this for this, when in fact it was so our guys could have hot showers when they get back off patrol.
I falsified the [traumatic brain injury] report that changed a distance from the IED strike [to where] one person was standing. So that way someone didn’t come back down and stick a finger in my CO’s chest and say, “You need to evac that lieutenant right now!” Because in the middle of [a] RIP, that’s not going to happen. If I do that, I’m going to put my boys in bags because they don’t have any leadership. That ain’t happening. I owe the parents of this country more than that.