How to change the world…
or, institutional change meets complexity theory meets evolutionary psychology
By COA Cody van Heerden Chair in Economics and Quantitative Social Sciences Davis Taylor
Davis Taylor, photo credit Alisa Nye ’15.
Author’s Note: When I came out of graduate school in 1995, my professional toolkit consisted of little more than standard neoclassical economics, though that was coupled with a personal thirst for knowledge and a desire to teach well in a school of human ecology. Over the course of almost 28 years, I found that more knowledge only led to more questions, which I integrated with the myriad questions from students about the (economic) world. In particular, I found new institutional economics (NIE) explained a lot of economic phenomena that neoclassical alone could not do… so it became part of the toolkit. NIE was particularly valuable addressing inequality and social and environmental (in)justice, but then came new questions, particularly how so much inequality and injustice could exist in fairly democratic societies; in other words, why don’t things change? Why is change so hard to achieve? Those questions led to knowledge as far afield as complexity theory, moral psychology, and evolutionary psychology (which are all useful in explaining cooperation as well as inequality). The piece below started as a sort of “manifesto to myself” to explain and reconcile some concepts and real-world patterns, with an eye toward eventually sharing these ideas with students. I’ve fleshed out the original version in hopes of making it a bit more comprehensible. Please note that this isn’t a draft of a journal article or anything like that; it is a collection of very useful ideas, connected together to try to make sense of perplexing and worrisome things in the world. As with all human ecology, it is a work in progress (and, as with a lot of human ecology, it benefited greatly from discussion with others—thank you Colin, Mike, Alisa, and Dan!)
Complexity theory explains a couple of things about change. First, medium- and long-term outcomes in nonlinear systems (which include economies and political systems) are essentially impossible to predict, meaning what actually changes, where we’re moving economically and politically, is impossible to predict. This also implies that directing systemic change in a big way is also inherently difficult, probably impossible to do with any accuracy; to say, “Let’s aim directly for point A” is pretty much to guarantee that point A won’t be where you end up. This unfortunate outcome is supported by the long history of most revolutions going horribly awry; US foreign policy also offers a case in point.
At the same time, in a different context, directed behavior still makes sense for individual agents. The notion of fitness landscapes (imagine hills and valleys, with the hills being better places to be) suggests that some directions of movement for individuals, firms, and governments will be better than others. Overall institutional change might be hard to predict or alter, but individual agents, cognizant of the institutional/fitness landscape (and that the landscape itself changes constantly, but much of it acceptably slowly), direct their behaviors accordingly, and at times achieve success (though as with hedge fund managers and social media moguls, they should also acknowledge a significant dose of luck).
Holding the first argument with the second is challenging, but understanding and integrating them probably has something to do with scale. The smaller the temporal and spatial scale, the more certain/aware the agent is of the fitness landscape, and the better they can navigate. The larger the scale, the more they are storm-tossed in a tempest of nonlinear, unpredictable change and outcome. Additionally, NIE economists would argue that the larger-scale institutional matrix is simply so tightly interwoven and mutually reinforced that it is much more resistant to change.
How, then, do you affect positive social change in a nonlinear world? I don’t think one will ever be sure, there will never be a roadmap… but the ineffectiveness of directed, big efforts doesn’t leave us empty handed. We may only have a modicum of control, direction, and determination at a small scale, but there’s a powerful context (and a bulwark of complexity theory) pointing out how small things can make big changes in the world. We can do small change, but that change can be networked for big, (semi-)coordinated change: networks are the answer. And like the plant that casts many seeds into the wind or douses many bees’ abdomens with a bounty of pollen, we do a bunch of networked things that all seem to make sense as near as we can tell, knowing some of them won’t create much change—after all, networks are also complex systems—but some of them, in concert with the actions of others with whom we’re networked, could be a part of positive change at a larger scale. (This is really only the tip of the iceberg regarding networks… they are absolutely fascinating and amazing. Among other things, their fluidity and imperfections create very good conditions for evolutionary change.)
How should we network, what things should we do within our social networks, to foster change? As cooperation and taking care of each other, in many forms and guises—love, friendship, trust, empathy; loose groups and formal organizations; producing food together in the garden or the kitchen; pickup basketball and impromptu conversation—seem to have been essential for the flourishing of the species for well over a million years, our actions should point in these directions. I’d add that wonder and respect for the nonhuman world, our relationship to the living other and the complex web of support that sustains it, will also have a prominent role. We may not know exactly what to do, but we should probably follow these, our best instincts.
We have an advantage in this context, because networks and working together as equals is fun and meaningful, while the overreliance on linear, hierarchical approaches used by “the opposition” (a purposefully vague term) is not as fun, often doesn’t work very well, and has huge monitoring and enforcement costs. Humans actually thrive with a little bit of hierarchy (sorry, anarchist friends), but much of contemporary society (particularly businesses and governments) works on what might be called “strong hierarchy.” Strong hierarchy can be forced for a while at small temporal and spatial scales (sometimes with horrific large-scale systemic effects such as climate change) but is only acceptable at a large social level in an environment of fear and mistrust… which the opposition does its best to sow. Strong hierarchy, fear, and mistrust have a degree of short-term advantage in the fitness landscape, but we have to believe (or to bet) that they will always be an inferior strategy on the larger scale. I go with love and cooperation and wonder and creativity both because they’re fun, and because I sense they’ll be more successful at changing the world. Even if a lot of my change efforts strike out, I’ll still be wiser and healthier because of them.
While it’s not something into which I have delved formally, observation and experience suggests that, in their seeking to overcome their fear, some humans inevitably hurt and wound each other, producing other humans who want to hurt or wound, or are willing to do so in pursuit of power and prestige. So the opposition will be around for a long time to come. It may not seem like it, but we’ve had some success against them: there’s probably less hatred, less exploitation, less fear than there was 1,000, 100, and maybe even 50 years ago. We have a better understanding of how people get wounded, and why they seek power (usually in terms of money) even if it exploits or harms others. But of course our work in this realm isn’t done, there are still huge, daunting problems causing pain and suffering around the world.
And maybe it will always be that way; we also have to acknowledge that, even with all the fun and meaningfulness we can muster, and all the power of networks, we can’t be sure that we’ll get the world we’d like to see. It may be that there will always be too much woundedness, too much concentration of power, too many things already irrevocably tilted and wrong in the world. The tensions are there, the challenges are extremely daunting, and things could get worse before they get better.
Fortunately, our best chance for our success at making the world a better place is also what I have been calling fun, what we are drawn to do, what makes it worth getting out of bed in the morning, regardless of the uncertainty of long-term success. To borrow from Eduardo Galeano, utopia is always on the horizon; I walk two steps toward it, it moves two steps further away…but that doesn’t keep us from walking toward it. The purpose of utopia, of our hopes and dreams, is in the walking. The answer isn’t to despair, any more than it is to seek to overcome the pain and suffering through demanding nearly impossible and usually disastrous direct, large-scale linear action. The answer is in being fully human in the myriad wonderful (and painful) ways that we can… not passively or individualistically, but mindfully, emphatically, vocally, and together.
This may sound like I’m trying to end my discussion regarding change on a hopeful, philosophical note, but that is not the intent at all. My students will confirm that I have no qualms about ending on a depressing note; there’s no shortage of them in the study of the economy. Based on science, history, social science, and my experience (hey, that sounds like human ecology), this really is the best way and our greatest chance to get the world we want.
