Economics and sociopathy

I was talking to an economist friend recently. We were talking about how economics is not just a dismal science, but that economists have a pretty dismal view of human nature, possibly because economists themselves are not generally altruistic or prosocial? He told me that economists are different enough from the general population that economics researchers can't use economics undergraduate students for their experiments because they tend to give very different answers than the average person. Specifically he told me about a game where everyone chooses to either put in a black marble or a white marble in a bag. If you put in a white marble, you increase the overall size of the payout/pie, but you just have one piece of that pie. If you put in a black marble, you get two pieces of the pie, but of a smaller pie. The optimal result would be for everyone to put in white marbles, and a lot of people actually do put in white marbles either because of altruism or optimism or guilt or whatever else. Economists and economics students, however, almost always put in black marbles. My economist friend was using this as evidence that economists are not good people. And if this one scenario was the only thing you knew about economists, perhaps you could say that the results of the experiment are consistent with the economists-as-bad-people hypothesis too.

But I gave him another quick scenario to see how he would handle it: imagine that you are at war, just you and five other fellow soldiers, all standing around in a circle. A grenade gets launched into the middle of the circle. If someone jumps on the grenade, only one person dies. If no one jumps on the grenade, there's a 20% chance someone might die and everyone will suffer moderate to critical injuries. Everyone is equidistant from the grenade and has an equal opportunity to jump on the grenade. Before I tell you what he said, I want the sociopaths who are reading this to think what they would do.






So, I asked my economist friend what he would do and he immediately replied, "I would jump on the grenade." Of course he would. He's rational and cares about efficiency. He would be the type of person in the trolley problem to throw the switch and kill the one to save the five, and apparently that answer doesn't change even when he is the one who needs to die. I think his answer surprised even him, though I'm not sure why. Perhaps because he had convinced himself that economists are soulless or at the very least selfish (i.e., rationally self-interested). But there's nothing remotely selfish or even self-interested about jumping on the grenade.

The reason I knew that this example would "work" on him is that he and I think similarly and it's something that I think I might do too. I like efficiency, and it would be efficient to fall on the grenade. Also I like winning, and it would be "winning" to thwart the enemy. It would be powerful, to smother the force of such a powerful device with just my body. Also I'm impulsive and not particularly attached to life. I actually think that a lot of sociopaths would do the same for one or more of those reasons. In fact, and I wish there was some way to accurately test this, I predict that a higher percentage of sociopaths would jump on the grenade than non-sociopaths, if for nothing else than the indecision or paralyzing fear that a lot of non-sociopaths might experience -- by the time they got around to making the decision, it might be too late. These are just guesses, but I don't think it's crazy to think that sociopaths might be braver and more pro-social in certain situations than normal people, just like economists might be more selfless than the average person in certain situations.

Whether or not my prediction is correct, I think this example also illustrates how dangerous it is to perform a couple experiments in controlled situations and extrapolate the data far beyond those particular situations. Sloppy science writers (and even serious researchers) make this mistake all of the time, e.g. if sociopaths seem to not show empathy in one situation, it's easy to make the (apparently incorrect) presumption that they never feel empathy. The truth is context matters immensely and we only know a sliver of all there is to know about ourselves and others. 

Trolley problem

This was sent in by an anonymous reader. I remember reading the trolley problem before and being really surprised that some people might not kill the one guy to save the more. For some reason, I also feel that killing the wandering stranger is a mistake. Maybe it is because I know the statistics of organ transplant success. Or I know how expensive and dangerous it is to do those type of surgeries. In some sort of way, I think I feel like the young stranger is actually more deserving of his own organs than the other five. Or it could be my particular form of efficiency-loving Burkean libertarianism that generally doesn't like to mess with things because of unforeseen consequences -- the longer the period you're looking at (organ donations), the greater the uncertainty. Or maybe I do have a soul. Here it is:

Thought experiments can teach us about the cognitive processes involved in moral decision making, and perhaps none is ultimately so telling as the trolley problem. One formulation of the trolley problem goes like this:

Five people are tied to a trolley track, and a trolley is speeding toward them. You're standing next to a switch that can divert the trolley onto another track. If you do nothing they'll all be killed in a matter of seconds. If you throw the switch it will divert the trolley off of the track with the five people tied to it, and onto a track with only one person tied to it. While the five will be saved, the one who wouldn't have been harmed otherwise will now be killed. Do you throw the switch?

Another formulation can be stated this way:

Five people are tied to a trolley track, and the trolley is speeding toward them. If you do nothing, they'll all be killed in a matter of seconds. You're standing on a bridge behind a tall and extremely fat man who is leaning against a rickety railing. No one else is there, and he's totally oblivious to both your presence and his precarious position. If you push him, the railing will give and he'll fall directly in front of the trolley. He will be killed, but he'll also bring the trolley to a stop, preventing it from harming the five people tied to the track. Do you push the fat man?

For hard-headed readers who answered "yes" to the first two, there is at least one more formulation:

You are a talented surgeon in a small village where five people need various organ transplants. None of them are on waiting lists, and all will die in a matter of days if they don't get organs. Each is in a weakened state, so you can't use organs from one to save another. If you could find a healthy donor, you'd be able to save them all.

By chance, a young traveler with a minor cut on his arm visits your office. Just for kicks you run a blood test, and find out that he's a perfect match for all 5. He mentions that no one saw him come in. Furthermore, not only is he in the country illegally, traveling alone on foot, and paying for everything with cash, but he didn't even tell anyone back home where he was going because he's estranged from his family. etc., etc. Do you tell the young man to wait while you get a tetanus booster shot, only to return with a syringe containing a powerful sedative? Or do you just smile and send him on his way?

When answering the various formulations of the problem, what decisions did you make, and why did you make them? How long did it take you to arrive at your decisions? How long did it take you to come up with explanations for your decisions?

Joshua Greene of Harvard University has done extensive research on cognition and moral judgment by asking test subjects these kinds of questions while performing functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging (fMRI). His results can be summarized in three sentences. When people choose a course of action which maximizes outcomes, the parts of their brain which show the most activity are those associated with rational and quantitative thinking. When people choose a course of action in which they do not perform acts which directly harm others, the parts of their brain which show the most activity are those associated with emotion and feeling. These parts of the brain 'light up' as soon as the questions are read, much more quickly than most people can formulate an explanation.

When I tried to answer the series of trolley questions myself, I found that I was making nearly instantaneous judgments as to which option made me feel least guilty. The process of using my intellect to come up with a list of justifications didn't even start until after my decision was final. The most troubling thing about this for me is that I approached the series of questions with deliberate intent to be as rational and consistent as possible. I realized that I couldn't be. In all likelihood, virtually no one can.

This raises important questions for readers who pride themselves on rationality. We could address hypothetical questions about judgments on specific situations, but I'm more interested in general questions like: "How can I trust my moral judgment on anything?" Well, how can you? The fundamental point of the trolley problem goes beyond whether any one decision is right or wrong. The real question is whether it's even possible for certain categories of human decision making to be rational. I don't think we can have a grown-up discussion about morality without addressing this.

At its core, the trolley problem raises a new kind of "duality" question; one which is thoroughly modern and scientific. Are we thinking with one brain, or multiple brains? Does the amygdala vie for control with the cerebral cortex? Do the right and left hemispheres struggle against each other? If so, what determines which will win? If we direct our own thoughts and decisions, then why are those decisions made as quickly as autonomic reflexes? Who or what is in control of our thoughts? What does our thought process say about who and what we are?