Product Description

'Truly eye-opening ...There is almost no situation that Harford cannot dissect with his sharp economist's tools ...economics has never been this cool' NEW STATESMAN If humans are so clever, why do we smoke and gamble, or take drugs, or fall in love? Is this really rational behaviour? And how come your idiot boss is so overpaid? In fact, the behaviour of even the unlikeliest of individuals - prostitutes, drug addicts, racists and revolutionaries - complies with economic logic, taking into account future costs and benefits, even if we don't quite realise it. We are rational beings after all.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #8347 in Books
• Published on: 2009-03-05
• Original language: English
• Binding: Paperback
• 288 pages

Review
'The chapter "Why is Your Boss Overpaid?" is in itself worth the price of this book' - Sunday Telegraph 'This is no minor thesis ... If you loved [The Tipping Point and Freakonomics] you'll love this' - Financial Times

FINANCIAL TIMES
`This is no minor thesis . . . If you loved [The Tipping Point and Freakonomics] you'll love this'

METRO
`Always thought-provoking'

Customer Reviews

You're not as stupid as you look
Just finished "The Logic of Life", the second book by Tim Harford of "Undercover Economist" fame, and recommend it to anyone with an interest in economics and/or how the world works.

The book's essential premise is that you're not as stupid as you look: or, to put it another way, that human behaviour is the product of rational choices, however seemingly irrational, destructive or absurd the outcomes of those choices may be. The book then ranges across subjects as diverse as the causes of the industrial revolution, institutional racism and teen America's fondness for oral sex to prove the case. (Incidentally I tip my hat the poor sap who, one assumes, wagered that Tim couldn't work the phrase "teenage fellatrices" into the first few pages of a book of popular economics - and lost.)

"The Logic of Life" uses the tools (and research) available to the professional economist to make clear a number of seemingly-intractable puzzles: why in a seemingly democratic political system governments consistently favour small interest groups with huge subsidies (it's not worth the trouble for the voters to co-ordinate themselves to save a couple of cents each in taxes, but it's well worth the trouble of agribusiness to coordinate itself to demand millions of dollars in subsidies); whether colonial rule benefited the colonised territories (yes, when it left them with the institutions that are necessary to create wealth already in place); and whether it's a good idea for people who dine regularly together to take it in turns to pick up the bill (contrary to Tim's previous advice in his "Dear Economist" column for the FT, almost certainly - no one diner cares enough about a bill split ten ways to watch out for the restaurant ripping the party off, but if you take it in turns to pick up the tab the guy whose turn it is to pay will put a quick stop to unordered bottles of wine arriving at the table).

Probably my favourite part of the book, however, is the summary of William Nordhaus's work on measuring how improvements in technology from one period to another translate into economic gains. Nordhaus considered, and attempted to measure, the labour required to light a room of a house, using for the purpose first a pile of wood he had chopped, carried and ignited himself; then a Roman oil lamp; and finally a modern lightbulb. He concluded, perhaps not surprisingly, that the Roman oil lamp was not only easier and cheaper to light but produced a sensationally better quality of light, and that of course the modern lightbulb offered the same benefits over the Roman oil lamp again. Over to Tim:

"Nordhaus's experiments suggested that as far as light was concerned, economic growth has been underestimated not by a factor of two or three but ten thousand times over. A modern lightbulb, illuminating a room from 6pm until midnight every night for a year, produces the same amount of light as thirty-four thousand candles from the early nineteenth century. In the early nineteenth century, earning the money to buy thirty-four thousand candles would have taken an average worker all year. When I remind myself to turn off unnecessary lights, I am saving light that would have taken my grandfather's grandfather all his working hours to provide. For me, the saving is too small to notice."

Confirmation, if any more were remotely needed, that this is the best time in the history of the world to be alive. To - quite deliberately - mangle the words of that fool Cecil Rhodes, always remember that you are living in the C21st and have therefore come first in the lottery of life.

"The Logic of Life" is not only an excellent summary of the current state of the art in behavioural economic research and a treasure-trove of fascinating factoids, but a warm and engaging book, a rational man's attempt to share with the reader his obvious love of the world and its rational foundations. Perhaps the truth won't make you free, but understanding how the world works through the lens of "The Logic of Life" will make you appreciate it a whole lot more.

A valuable reminder that economics is a means not an end
A lively and thought-provoking follow-up to Harford's debut book The Undercover Economist, which used textbook economics to throw new light on everyday life. In this second book Harford moves well beyond the textbook to take us on a tour of some cutting edge research and thinking that's emerging from what he calls a "new breed of economists". Among them is Steve Levitt, whose Freakonomics popularised the notion that economists can have interesting things to say about areas you wouldn't normally expect them to be poking their noses into - but Levitt is only one of many academic researchers who are cheerfully roaming over other people's turf from their economics labs, so Harford's book serves as a timely overview of a newly sexy subject.

The result is a startlingly diverse collection of insights and anecdotes which are all held together by one central premise - that you can explain a lot about life by starting from the simple assumption that people are fundamentally rational. This is not an uncontroversial assertion - among the "new breed of economists" are those melding economics with psychology into a fledgeling discipline of behavioural economics, which focuses on our irrational quirks. Harford's view is not to dismiss these human foibles, but to argue persuasively that they shouldn't be overstated, and that in most important situations we behave rationally - that is, subconsciously evaluating costs and benefits and responding to incentives - to a remarkable extent.

Harford's writing is a joy to read, especially when he's impishly puncturing pomposity - my favorite is the "why your boss is overpaid" chapter, which discusses several theories that could rationally explain the obscenely high wages commanded by modern CEOs (hint: none of them are "because they're worth it"). One great lesson made clear by this book is that individually rational decisions can lead to socially horrible outcomes, a conclusion never clearer than in the discomfiting chapter on "rational racism". It's a valuable reminder that economics is a means not an end - rational choice theory doesn't dictate what society should be like, rather it teaches how we can harness rationality by changing incentives to shape the society we want.

Math Applied to Common Decisions
Many of the popular books about economics seek to convince you that human beings are wildly illogical. Why? Because the dollars and sense of what people say and do don't always match up well. Tim Harford gets past that problem by mostly ignoring the academic studies that seem far removed from reality by emphasizing what people do when they are new to something.

The book is at its best when he's explaining how systemic biases can create large shifts in human behavior. For instance, a slight preference for having neighbors who are like oneself can lead to quite substantial segregation along race, religion, education, and economic lines.

For me, the book lacked any big "gotcha" like the finding that abortions may have contributed to lowering crime.

In almost every section, I thought that Mr. Harford was arguing (or at least haranguing) beyond the limits of his evidence.

When he moves beyond being an observer into someone trying to convince you what people are like, I found he was often offensive. There's a section about how those who aren't native to Africa "solved" the problem of dying from malaria by transferring slaves from Africa to milder climates that's insensitive at best.

To Mr. Harford's eye, we are so much creatures of economics, comfort, and the pursuit of gain that there's no role for any other human motives. That's a too limited view of people . . . and hardly an uplifting one.

Unless you are addicted to Mr. Harford's writing, skip this book. It won't tell you much that you need to know.