What’s the closest substitute for a firearm?

For those earnestly interested in addressing issues surrounding firearms in the United States (and not just aligning with a political coalition), this working paper from Moshary, Shapiro, and Drango (MSD from here on) is an absolute must read. The technical moves are an interesting overlap of industrial organization economics and marketing analytics, but the punchlines all hit on the same topic: how do current and possible future firearms owners respond to prices for different products? When MSD estimate the price elasticities for different firearms, they are in effect asking one of those deep questions in economics that is always lying below the surface: are these goods substitutes?

It’s uncanny how much of the disputes within economic policy and regulation come down to how one defines substitutes. Is Coca-Cola a monopoly? Well, that depends on whether or not you think Pepsi or water is a close enough substitute. Should vapes be banned? That depends on how much demand you think will shift over to traditional cigarrettes. No matter your thoughts on marijuana legalization, I promise you the marketing and lobbying wings of the largest alcohol distributors have invested a lot in determining if cannabis is a substitute for their products (spoiler: it is).

Should assault weapons be banned? I am on the record as saying they should be, but the results in MSD give me pause. The bulk of firearms deaths are from handguns, and the bulk of people in the market for an assault rifle point to a handgun as their next-best alternative if an assault rifle is not an option. Would an assault rifle ban have the unintended consequence of pulling more handguns into the market and, in turn, create more firearms deaths?

This is not an easy question to answer because we haven’t actually taken the time to define the good. And by define the good, I mean define the bundle of attributes actually being purchased. The most obvious attribute of a firearm is the ability to point it at a living creature and take away its entire future. That it is such a chilling capacity that we sometimes fail to fill in the rest of the ledger. Firearms are a source of personal security, no small detail for isolated individuals. They are a means of pest control, an absolute necessity for anyone farming or raising smaller livestock. They are a way of signaling your group identity to others. Of affirming your idependence and strength. They are collectable, both as historical vintages and customizable baubles. They are highly effective at hunting game. They are fun to shoot at targets.

All of that means that when we consider banning, regulating, or taxing a specific class of firearm, we have to think really hard about the bundle of attributes being purchased and consumed, and what the next best alternative is for each customer shifted to a different product on the margin. The outcomes are perhaps more unpredictable than is often considered. Who is the marginal customer and what exactly is it that they want?

Consider a ban on assault rifles. Some will shift their demand to the black market. Despite the obvious danger in a group of individuals who illegally purchase high power firearms, we can actually ignore them at this stage because there’s no option where they don’t acquire assault weapons. What about the rest? Some are desperate to protect their homes. Hopefully they will be easier to persuade now that a shotgun is their best option (pro tip: it always was). Some want to maximize their capacity to do harm: absent maximal power, they may now opt for concealability and mobility i.e. a handgun. This seems like a particularly viable story in states that allow for the carrying of concealed weapons in public with or without a license.

Some, however, might view their $1200-$3000 might be better spent putting a snorkel on their jeep engine ($700), a bowie knife on their hip ($250), and bottle of Michters Single Barrel Whiskey on their shelf ($500*). Maybe they’ll blow it all at once on a lift kit for their truck. We can rest assured that the marketplace will offer no shortage of goods that offer little value save for people to impress their friends with what they just bought, which is a blessing. Substitution to tactical sunglasses and raunchy mudflaps is unequivicably preferable to more Glock 19s.

What about a ban on handguns? Here MSD identifiy an important asymmtry: customers in the market for a handgun don’t consider long guns, while would be purchasers of long guns frequently explicitly consider a handgun on their 2nd choice. From the point of view of minimizing firearms deaths, a ban on handguns may be optimal, but it is hard to predict what the substitutes will be. Based on their measured elasticities of demand for different types of guns, MSD estimate that a 10% tax on all firearms would have the same net effect on total firearms in the market. Perhaps most importantly, it is highly unlikely to backfire into a shift in market composition towards assault weapons, something that can’t be ruled out by a handgun ban. Combined with current political realities, a tax on firearm would appear more feasible than any broad class bans.

For a large, but not unanimous, share of social scientists studying firearms, the outcome desired is 1) a smaller fraction Americans with access to firearms, and 2) reduced capacity to commit large scale acts of violence with high powered firearms. Putting aside any disagreement on the desired outcomes, the policy steps forward still allow for meaningful uncertainty. Yes, I know that heavily restricting firearms in Australia has been wildly successful. It’s hard to argue with a total homicide rate roughly a tenth of the US rate. But we can only consider the policy options that are actually on the table and the voter status quo. Current options are likely limited to either a narrow ban on a subset firearms or a modest tax on them all. The status quo is one where a third of all Americans own a gun, 81% of whom feel safer because they have one.

Given these unavoidable constraints, good firearms policy (not optimal, merely good) requires knowing what it is that people are buying so we can tilt the playing field in the right way. We live in a world where politicians are sending AR-15 toting Christmas cards and pantomime tough guys are ordering their Subway Chicken Teriyakis while armed to the gills. There’s no policy prescription that’s going to magically create earnest politicians and emotionally secure men, but everyone responds to prices.

*I apologize to fans of Michters, I just don’t like their bourbon very much relative to the price. If you want to impress your friends, track down a bottle of William Larue Weller. It’s expensive, but it might be the best bourbon in the world, and that includes all of the Pappys.**

**Okay, its not as good as the Stitzel-Weller Pappy 20 I first tried in 2011. That’s still the greatest thing I’ve ever consumed. But that doesn’t exist anymore as far as I know or could hope to afford. My advice is to let it all go and just buy a bottle of Four Roses Single Barrel. Always less than $50, always fantastic.

Publications and Grants, LLC

Francesca Gino has been acused of academic fraud. She claims she is innocent. I am not going to adjudicate here whether she committed fraud. What I am going to argue is that she and many other high volume researchers aren’t actually engaged in research. They are grant procurers, managers, high volume writers, globetrotting presenters. But they are not researchers because they are too far removed from the actual production of research. Now, to be clear, that doesn’t necessarily mean the world is worse off. Their comparative advantage may lie in everything from management to carnival barking, but there is a threshold, a degrees-too-far removed from the problem solving at which point you are you no longer a scholar. What that threshold is, I can’t say, but I would argue that if you can’t defend your work, investigate it’s own integrity, if you don’t know who your research assistants are or what they did, then you have likely crossed that thresold. From Gino’s (since updated) website:

We’ve all see the presentations or heard the stories of the leading scholar called on the carpet about something in their project or analysis, only to respond “I’m not sure. My RA did that.” Which is fine. But at some point that started to become assumed as characterizing whole researchers, whole agendas, whole fields. There are always going to be the prodigiously productive, but those people used to be one or two in a generation. Glorious anomalies. Universities are now littered with faculty with hundreds of publications, sometimes dozens in a single year, and we all know that it is physically impossible for them to conduct that work themselves. Gino received her PhD in 2004 and in the 19 years since has 460 (!!!) publications listed on google scholar. Some of those are probably duplicate listings, but it’s probably safe to say she has more than 20 publications per year for 20 years. It’s hard enough to imagine having energy enough to write and present that many papers even if they are produced entirely by others. This is not unique to Gino and there is no doubting the prodigious work ethic in evidence within her and others. What is in question is whether the ever raising bar on output is lowering the quality of work done by the field as a whole. It’s a tax on us all if research concentrated within the labor of the most qualified, competent, and creative no longer produces an acceptable return to scale. Some people really are better managers of other people’s work, at some point the work has to be attributable to one or more people. Who is doing the work? Who is responsible for the work?

Maybe this isn’t really useful and I don’t feel like yelling at clouds for 5000 words. As I was saying…

But I’ll tell you this- truly great researchers work with other greater researchers, employ smart people, mentor promising RAs. And they know who they are and what they did. Because when you’re in the weeds trying to answer questions, its almost impossible not to know. That doesn’t mean mistakes won’t be made and errors overlooked. But when it comes time to audit your work, you’ll know where to start and what might have gone wrong. If you don’t know, well, maybe you’re lying, but maybe more likely you just weren’t around when the work was getting done. You were promoting your last project and getting your next grant. Because you’re not a researcher. At least not anymore.

You’re a manager, promoter, figurehead, pitchman, traveling roadshow. You’re likely useful and valuable. Publication and Grant, LLC.

But you’re not a scholar. And the institutions employing you aren’t producing scholarship. These faculty are following their incentives, and those incentives are at the moment treating research as a game to be played. Not science. Not the answering of questions. An expensive hustle to grind and empty race to win. They’re getting what they’re paying (and tenuring) for.

The NFL doesn’t want to pay for risk

The NFL has filed a grievance against the players union, alleging a conspiracy to fake injuries on the part of running backs to gain greater leverage in salary negotiations. To grant necessary context as succinctly as possible: running backs carry the ball while giant humans attempt to harm them. They do this 15 to 30 times per game. They are important to team success, but not as important as they once were. At the same time, they incur significant traumatic and cumulative damage, resulting in the shortest expected career length of any position in professional football. The NFL has a cap on total team salaries negotiated between the players union and the owners group/cartel/partnership. Running backs have seen their salaries decline even as the damage incurred as become more apparent and measurable. This raises an interesting question: where are the compensating wage differentials for risk? Everyone gets paid more if their job is dangerous. Do running back wages reflect their physical risk?

Supply and demand always come first, and any explanation for the (relative to other positions) decline in running backs salaries has to start with declining demand. Running backs are viewed as less valuable, more interchangable than they once were. At the margin, the returns to employing the best running back relative to the 30th best running back are viewed as thinner than in earlier eras. And that could be 95% of the answer, but it’s worth investigating the supply side as well.

The understood risk of injury facing running backs has increased. With greater risk typically comes less labor supply, the shifting equilibrium pushing wages up. Is this what we are seeing in football? Are fewer athletes interested in being a running back? Are running backs retiring earlier? Maybe, but that can cut both ways, reducing supply and demand.

But the supply side has multiple dimensions: both players entering the market (the “extensive” margin) and the amount they are willing to play (the “intensive” margin). Has the injury “threshold” shifted for running backs who are now less willing to play while already carrying significant damage? Because that’s exactly what I think we are seeing. I think running backs are beginning to reduce the amount of their bodies’ usable careers they are willing to sell at the current market price. They have reduced supply on the intensive margin. Running backs are demanding greater compensating wage differentials for risk and the owners don’t like it. They thought the supply of running back labor would remain almost perfectly inelastic under the terms of the collective bargaining agreement, but they were wrong.

Now, is trying to organize a collective reduction in labor supply in order to better negotiate compensating wage differentials fair play on the part of the players? Absolutely. Why do I say absolutely? Because they are not only bargaining against a cartel of owners, they are implicitly bargaining against the rest of the players association, who have failed to deliver compensation for their risk, at least in part, because the rest of the players, the non-running backs, benefit from every dollar under the cap not spent on running back salaries.

I’ll put it bluntly. Everyone has the right not to supply their labor. Everyone has the right not to incur physical risk and damage if they aren’t being sufficiently compensated. Organizing to collectively restrict that supply is fair game, triply so if there are explicit (the owners) and implicit (the other players) groups that are collectively organizing against you.

I’ve seen NFL games. I know how much you’d have to pay me to carry the ball once on an NFL field, let alone dozens of times every week. If I wasn’t getting paid my reservation wage, there is no collective bargaining agreement you could wave in my face, no public shaming, no pressure from fans that could get me on that field.

All the collective bargaining in the world can’t make the laws of supply and demand go away. Professional sports are a labor-intensive industry, and football is a high risk endeavor for labor. If you want millionaires to show up every week to willingly endure the equivalent of a half-dozen car accidents, you’re going to have to pay them. Oh, but you can’t pay them that much, they’re a depreciating asset since the damage incurred shortens their career? Good point, the price just went up. You don’t want to commit to long term contracts because injury can end a career on any play? Good point, the price just went up. We have a big game this week, we need …you…to…ohhhhh

Now you’re getting it.

Innovation as inspiration

Moments of inspiration can and do lead to innovation, almost by definition. Sometimes we forget that innovation is itself inspirational. I first read about “inverse vaccines” two days ago and it hasn’t left my mind since.

“Inverse vaccine” shows potential to treat multiple sclerosis and other autoimmune diseases

These are lab results, not clinical trials. This is not a new treatment coming any time soon. The logic though, the idea, is absolutely brilliant. Traditional vaccines teach the immune something the blueprint for attacking a new enemy. These researchers realized that the liver has a method for marking molecules with N-acetylgalactosamine so that the immune system knows not to attack them. Autoimmune disorders, from common allergies to multiple schlerosis, are a product of the immune system attacking what it shouldn’t.

Why can’t we mark the cells of the body being tormented by an overzealous immune system with N-acetylgalactosamine?

It’s such a simple idea. Simple and completely brilliant. I am convinced we are living in a new golden age of vaccines. But this? This is inspired and inspiring, promising to take what is already a time of miracles and push it in an entirely new direction. There are new ideas sitting out there, waiting to be conceived. But sometimes what we need is for an act of innovation to inspire us to think in a new way. Or an old way. Or a reciprocal way.

AI as matter compiler

I just learned that the de-aging process used to produce scenes with a “younger” Harrison Ford in the most recent Indiana Jones movie was produced using an AI process that matched the Ford’s face in each newly filmed moment with a perfectly matching facial expression from archival stock of the actor.

The movie was fine, even if the third act was a little undercooked. I just want to point out two things. First, this is a natural extension of the LLM model of artificial intelligence: pulling from library of information provided (i.e. the internet or footage of Indiana Jones punching Nazis) and then reassembling that information to produce a new product. When we debate whether or not these pieces of software constitute actual “intelligence” what we are really arguing about is whether or not the substrate is sufficiently simple, sufficiently inert for the act of assembly to constitute an act of intelligence.

Case in point, nobody is arguing that de-aging Harrison Ford betrays true intelligence on the part of the software. The material being acted upon is already coherent, it’s just being reordered to convey a new message ( i.e. scenes in a different movie). Similar things could be said about ChatGPT. It’s just searching through pre-existing text and ideas, sifting for relevance, and reordering to optimally assemble into an updated product.

Operating within this metaphor, what would constitute intelligence is the that can sift through a primordial substrate of inorganic, individually incoherent components, and assemble them into original pieces of coherent information; sparks of cognition. An example of this would be to take the ambient, ineffable sentiments implied by the collective set of questions being asked by ChatGPT users (hopes, fears, feelings, etc) and produce not just answers to questions not yet answered by humans, but to answer questions not yet asked. To sift through information, break it into into its smallest possible molecules of cognition, and contribute to the broader collective body of knowledge by assembling new thoughts.

This sort of process has been occasionally posited in the form of a “matter compiler” in science-fiction, which is essentially just a 3-D printer at the molecular level. That remains pretty far off, as best I know. I suspect the same will be true of true artificial generalized intelligence. We know an awful lot about how molecules are assembled, the problem with producing a matter compiler is largely one of cost. We know comparably less about how neurons firing are assembled into acts of generative intelligence, of creativity. We will know no doubt get there, but getting there usually happens well before we cross the chasm of cost, of material feasibility.

But yeah, the new Indiana Jones movie was okay.

Condescension shouldn’t signal competence

On this, the Day of our Labor in the year 2023, I leave you with a simple observation/plea into the void: don’t confusion condescending overconfidence with competence. I give to you Hans-Heman Hoppe stating, in public and on camera, his exasperated and deeply aggrieved belief that Paul Krugman doesn’t know what money is or how it works:

Never forget that “con man” is short for “confidence man“, and part of the trick when trying to get other people to believe in you is to first project unerring belief in yourself. Confidence communication is effective in the sharing of ideas, but the real trick to all con men is what they’re selling. Or, more specifically, what the customers are buying. Yes, he’s selling the idea what monetary policy and fiat currencies are all part of a giant scam, a fugazi, because lol money isn’t real. But that’s not what his customers are buying.

What they’re buying is the idea that “I, person who holds this belief, am smarter than Paul Krugman.” I imagine that is probably a pretty enjoyable belief to hold. I would certainly enjoy believing that I am smarter than Paul Krugman, but wanting something doesn’t make it true…which, now that I say it outloud, is a nearly sufficient encapsulation of the entire human condition.

To be clear, this isn’t about Krugman’s accomplishments or status in society inviting censure or criticism from all corners. That’s just the eminence tax. It’s actually, in a weird way, about everything he had to do to acquire that eminence, in the form of arduous education, training, and research production over decades. Because what I think the Hoppe’s of the world are often really selling to their audience is a shortcut. An opportunity to believe that you, the listener, don’t have to go through such trials of human capital acquisition. You just have to hang out with me, parrot a few trivializations of economic thought, cope with a little light reading, and boom, you’re smarter than a Nobel laureate with 275k citations. All available to you for the low low price of believing Paul Krugman doesn’t know how money works.

Don’t wait, supplies are limited.

When is success uncorrelated with competence?

I agree with Tyler’s assessment that the top performers in pretty much any field of endeavor tend to be incredibly intelligent, regardless of whether that field is broadly associated with intelligence per se. He closes with an open question: in what fields can success belie intelligence?

The older I get, the more complex and messier I find intelligence to be as a construct. If we broaden the concept from intelligence to “competence” or “capability”, however, I think it becomes an even more interesting question. In what fields can we expect to observe top performers who are, in actuality, objectively bad at their jobs?

This is not to say I that I believe there are any fields or jobs where success doesn’t positively correlate with capability. Rather, it is to ask in what fields, if any, is the variance on outcomes is so great as to be able to fully obscure average or expected outcomes within individuals? Framed this way, the fields we should be looking for are those that emphasize high leverage, high risk wagers made with low frequencies. If you’re trying to identify ostensibly high-performers who are, in reality, grossly incompetent in the fields that made them wealthy, look for a series of ex ante negative expected value wagers combined with large initial endowments and foolish leverage ratios. Probalistically most such individuals will be punished accordingly, but given enough players, a highly visible few will hit big with an initial sequence of winners. Their subsequent anointment as virtuosos combined with the sheer weight of their capital will permit them to coast for decades before, if ever, their underlying incompetence catches up with them.

As for specific fields, it’s pretty easy for me to see such dynamics at play in real estate and angel investing. Not to be confused with construction or venture capital, in which “wagers” are made with much higher frequency, lower risk, and, in turn, lower returns on investment. Success in such fields reveal competence for the same reason it reveals them in professional poker: the law of large numbers eventually comes for everyone. Real estate speculation, on the other hand, whether its developed or undeveloped properties is exactly the kind of field where otherwise incompetent boobs, if given a large enough initial endowment and the opportunity to leverage to the hilt, can become giants on the heels of a relatively small number of bets. If they were in the right zip codes for the last few decades, it’s entirely possible to turn a half million into a few billion, without any insight in the slightest. Angel investing, on the other hand, tends to be less about leverage than simply buying lottery tickets: negative ROI, but in a landscape of thousands of angel investors, most of whom will experience losses approaching 100% on their portfolio, someone will fall into a 5000x return on something originally coded in a dorm. To be clear, more capable and competent investors will on average perform better speculating in real estate and early stage start-ups, but the absolutely biggest winners will be chosen more by chance than talent.

A similar question we might ask is what are the fields where the quality of outcomes is orthogonal to the capability being ostensibly being selected for? Allow me to explain through a standard scam story. A stock broker cold calls 100 people, tells each his pick for the week, half he says Stock A will go up, half he tells Stock A will go down. He then calls back the 50 people he correctly prognosticated to. He repeat this several times, until there are 3 people who believe that this previously unknown stranger has correctly predicted future stock prices 5 times in a row, a feat that seems unlikely by chance. Customers think the quality they are observing is forecasting expertise, when in actuality it is the ability to spend 60 hours a week being energetic and charismatic on the phone with strangers. This is, unto itself, a rare ability, just not the one that the customers in question think they are observing evidence of. Related to our earlier story, a strong argument can be made the most important skill in real estate speculation isn’t forecasting, but gaining access to leverage i.e. convincing people to loan you enough money that you can particpate in a casino with a such a high minimum stake.

The moral of the story is we should take care when attributing success to narrow capability or competence. Sometimes it’s because of selection on observability, obscuring the role that luck has played in success. Sometimes its because success demands obscuring the criteria on which it is selected, whether because of legality or simple social disapprobation. We should be doubly careful when considering fields/sectors where success remains somewhat mysterious or even magical. When observers are consistently attributing success to intangible factors, whether its charisma in politicians, inspiration in coaches, instinct in investors, or genius in futurists, your antennae should raise. If we don’t really know why and how someone succeeds, then there is a decent chance they don’t know either.

Why aren’t the writers and actors guilds trying to break the studio cartel?

The Writer’s Guild of America and the Screen Actors Guild of America are currently on strike. They are on strike because the highest paid actors are and, as best I can tell, all of the writers were getting entirely screwed by previous deal. A deal, I would note, they negotiated after realizing that they were getting screwed by the previous deal. Screenwriters do not appear to be a position to negotiate particularly good deals.

There’s no shame in that, by the way. This isn’t necessarily about shrewdness. The NFL players union has never been able to negotiate the deals on the level of major league baseball. Sometimes the structure of an industry and a labor market simply favor one side of the bargain. In the case of Hollywood, actors have always struggled with the reservation wages of non-guild members i.e. people will to act in movies for free in the hopes of hitting the jackpot and becoming a big star. I think the writers have a different problem.

The problem for writers is that the studios don’t know anything. They don’t know what they want, who’s good, who’s not. More importantly they don’t know what anybody or anything is worth. As best I can tell, the only thing they know is that paying less is better than paying more.

“Nobody knows anything…… Not one person in the entire motion picture field knows for a certainty what’s going to work. Every time out it’s a guess and, if you’re lucky, an educated one.” ― William Goldman, Adventures in the Screen Trade

This is a problem for writers because you can’t collectively bargain on behalf of thousands of writers against an idiot. The writers guild will tell you that they have no choice to bargain with said idiot because that idiot controls the studios and without the studios there is no business.

Ok, I get that. I’m not going to play the “Just make all your movies on an iPhone and distribute them on YouTube card…<whispers> even though a lot of you would be better off making your movies on an iPhone and distributing them independently. What I am saying that you don’t have to negotiate with studios. Plural. You can negotiate with a studio. Singular. Get it?

I’m telling you to break the cartel. DC is getting killed by Marvel. Negotiate a deal with DC. A24 is making the best movies in the world. They are small and they need their output in theaters selling tickets. Negotiate a deal with just them. Will it pay more than Marvel? Of course not. But it will employ 0.3% of your members for 6 weeks and set a precedent for small individual studio deals. Pretty soon that turns into 4.1%. Set the precedent that your guild is here to play hardball and will play the studios off against each other on behalf of your members. Each new deal is a valve that lowers the pressure on your members while simultanesouly ratcheting it up for the hold out studios that aren’t producing anything. If the larger studios attempt to punish those who negotiate deals with the guild, sue them for antitrust. Sue them for $200 billion. When it comes to “cartel-like” behavior, unions have vastly more legal latitude than industry players. It’s your job to take advantage of it.

And while you’re at it, negotiating all these bespoke deals, maybe add in a little flexibility. Maybe be a little more humble about your ability to prognosticate the future and don’t tie your selves to outragenously bad arrangements that leave writers of hit shows walking away with $3000 and a negative account balance. And if and when you realize your deal is this bad, strike sooner. Years sooner. The whole point of a union is gain bargaining power through collective action. If you can’t take action until something has passed the point of complete disaster, that doesn’t speak well of the union.

I am in the somewhat unusual position of generally liking private unions* that can survive on their own merits specifically because they represent another power player that balances the playing field, which leads to more competition, and more competition is better for everyone. But just because a union is a collective entity does not mean that they have to treat the opposition as a de facto collective entity. Play them off against each other. Break them down. Play dirty.

This isn’t show friends. Or even show cartels. This is show business. Bloody start acting like it.


*Public unions are a vastly different story and, full disclosure, I tend to be far more skeptical of them.

What is happening at West Virginia University?

West Virginia University is proposing a radical restructuring of their university. Did I say restructuring? I meant slashing and buring whole departments:

“Major cuts in faculty, academic programs could hit West Virginia University as financial concerns loom” by Maddie Aiken, Pittsburgh Gazette

Is this fiscally driven? Politically motivated? An attack on education? Some sorta boondoggle? Hard to say with any degree of confidence from all the way down here in Clemson, but that won’t stop me from speculating to my heart’s content. With these sorts of proposals on the table, there has arrived no shortage of proposed explanations and blame. All that said, I am quite confident that the final outcome will result in a different university that more than a few other universities will eventually resemble as well (NB: not mine, to be clear. For all of it’s standard pecadilloes, Clemson appears to be pretty good shape. That said, if the fates hand us a couple losing football seasons alongside a QAnon woke-truther voting block winning a set of seats in the state legislature, well, anything becomes possible).

So why is this happening?

A handful of reasonable explanations, in semi-random order

  1. The University president is a corrupt and incompetent boob

Feasibility: 4/5 Explanatory power: 2/5

Whoo-buddy. This guy appears to be the kind of known commodity that only a completely checked-out board of trustees would ever put in charge of a university. To wit, while plowing through millions he got caught spending $64k (not a typo) on his “signature” bow ties at his job prior to WVU. He has since burned millions at WVU on all the stuff that corrupt managers spend money on when they can’t put the money directly in their own pockets. Click on the whole thread below, it’s pretty jarring. That said, while this is likely all true, I’m not sure he’s burned enough money to wholly explain cuts this deep and a $45m budget shortfall.

2. West Virginia has turned its back on higher education broadly, the humanities specifically.

Feasibility: 2/5 Explanatory power: 1/5

Now, before you get ahead of me, I am not saying that the current political climate, obsessions with “woke” professors, and the broad anti-science/scholarship platform of a chunk of the US conservative movement isn’t making this an easier sell to the state legislature. What I am saying is that the $45m budget shortfall is real and graduate programs are often sneaky expensive. Masters programs are generally expected to be revenue positive for a department, and for many schools were often quite lucrative (at least, they were before the demand from foreign students was cut off). If a MA/MS/MFA program is getting cut during a budget crisis, you can be extra sure that program is losing money. Put another way, the university can’t afford to cut any profitable program right now, no matter how much its political gestalt might annoy certain power players. Placed in this context, I am surprised to see the Public Administration department on the chopping block. Those are often fairly popular and profitable masters programs. To be fair, I was originially the most surprised to see the MFA in Creative Writing program was being eliminated. It has a good reputation, such programs are usually relatively low cost to operate, and often can bring in a lot tuition money from students looking for a “consumption” degree. Then I saw that 100% of their MFA students received a full tuition waiver and $16,500 stipend. For that to work when your university is underwater you need those MFA students to teach a lot of undergraduate composition courses, and even then that leaves you with an English Department faculty hardpressed to justify their own numbers.

3. A $45 million shortfall meant WVU couldn’t put off the future another year

Feasibility: 5/5 Explanatory power: 3/5

This is the converstion we’re all actually having, regardless of the various competing framings. There are departments struggling on every campus. Humanities majors in decline, STEM majors in ascendance. For every Arts & Sciences faculty meeting that turned into a “why are their salaries higher than ours/because there is greater demand for our services outside of academia” food fight, there is now an actual existential question on the table, which means this just got real.

Real-er than you might think. Covid exposed the Return-On-Investment fragility of a lot of high priced private colleges, but <raised-eyebrows sotto voce> made your in-state public university look pret-ty good by comparison. Inflation? Inflation is often a boon to universities looking to cut costs because it offers the prospect of a meaningful haircut to the salaries of every member of your tenured faculty, but only if the state legislature plays along and lets you raise tuition in accordance with inflation. The fact that the flagship public university of a state is staring this down at exactly the moment when things are set up for state schools to succeed is perhaps the darkest harbinger of them all.

4. Maybe this is just a West Virginia problem

Feasibility: 5/5 Explanatory power: 4/5

West Virginia’s population shrank 3.2% from 2010 to 2020. The university’s enrollment has shrunk 10% since 2005. It’s hard enough to shrink any public institution’s workforce, let alone one with a tenure system for a sizable portion of it’s employees. Maybe none of this is that complicated. Shrinking populations are hard for government institutions to manage. Politically costly decisions get put off until the lights might actually go out. Choices do eventually get made, however, and when they do, they tend to be drastic.

5. All of the above

Feasibility: 5/5 Explanatory power: 5/5

That’s the best part of this gimmick. It implies I’ve explained the entire West Virginia University dilemma without ever actually committing my reputation to a single excerptable sentence. Come to think of it, I should use this format more often.

There’s never been a better time to teach yourself something

There are things that you can, on some level, know are true but not fully internalize until you re-experience that truth multiple times. We all know that there is a seemingly unending supply of free and paid educational instruction available on the internet, from the broadest mathematical pedagogy to instructions for replacing a single grommet on a specific appliance make and model. We are awash in content, much of it explicitly designed to aid in our self-guided educational journeys. You and I already know this, but every few years I feel like I re-live a moment of awe at what is costlessly or near-costlessly made available to anyone with an internet connection.

As you probably know, I am an economist and a sports junkie. In both my professional and sports endeavors, I tend to dabble in scattered interests until I get narrowly obsessed with something. Sometimes this takes the form of a 5 year research project, other times it means I become a hockey goalie for 15 years. For both hockey and most of the technical aspects of my economic research, I am almost exclusively “self-taught”, though I’m not sure that is all that unusual anymore. Woe be unto the applied economist who thinks an afternoon’s cap-and-gown affair means they are done struggling to learn new econometrics.

The corridor of athletic activity available to me has narrowed with injury and age, so like many before me I have turned to golf. At first reluctantly, I’ll admit, but now I am fully on board. I’ve constrained my financial investment, using (until very recently) entirely used equipment, found balls, and opting for less expensive courses. As I’ve progressed, what has once again shocked me is not just how easy it is to acquire instruction, but the incredible nuance and narrowness of that instruction. If something isn’t working for me, I can simply describe the problem I am experiencing into google and a dozen videos diagnosing and remedying the problem will instantly appear. If I want to understand the biomechanics or even physics behind my swing to build intuition, I can watch 100s of hours of videos. If I want advice geared towards players with similar personal characteristics, habits, or preferences, it all appears before me. It is not without exaggeration to suggest that I am receiving better instruction as a 46-year old amateur with one good knee than all but the absolutely most privleged in the world would have received 30 years ago.

This is all the more important when placed in the context of the rising cost of personal instruction. The price of passive instruction may be rapidly approaching zero, but that doesn’t insulate active instruction from Baumol’s cost disease. The cost of having someone’s time all to your self has never been higher, which means if you want your instruction curated, the regulatory device of interpersonal obligation and sunk costs, or simply an upscale babysitter that lets you feel like a good parent while you scroll your phone for an hour, you’re going to pay more than ever.

The only downside to being able to costlessly access our near-infinite Library of Alexandria, if there must be one, is the guilt I feel as I steadily improve. Every increment of improvement is evidence that I chose to get better at golf instead every other dimension of my professional and private self. The double-edged sword of opportunity cost haunts me, reminding me that everything I learn comes at the expense of what I chose not to learn. I could have learned about the China Trade Shock, the latest reason why every identification strategy ever employed in an economics paper is wrong, Mandarin, or how to cook rissotto for my wife.

But I chose golf. There’s probably insight into myself to be be had there, but some lessons are best left unlearned.