After recent euphoria, the Bay Area is in for a serious hangover. The party was great: The SF Giants won a first World Series against those Bush-infused Texas Rangers, and blue state locals let the red state tea-totalers know they had no intention of calling it a night. Unfortunately, reality is about to hit hard. As The Wall Street Journal put it: California has become the Lindsay Lohan State. Meanwhile, the NYT is reporting that bondholders are balking at the bill. In the end, the Giants' win was epic, but still vicarious entertainment. And what Tea Party goers might lack in spelling skills, they make up for in true insight: it is time to sober up.
By objective measures, California's state government has failed. California ranks at the bottom of every scale of accountability. Despite our temperate climate, we have the nation's second worst roads and bridges. We rank 36th for crime incidents and public safety. Our public education lags well behind the nation. Public development is moribund and critical public works are interminable. Environmental stewardship is stagnant. Our debt is unsustainable without federal bailout funds, which are not coming from the next Congress. Public pension obligations are dramatically underfunded, drawing billions of our tax dollars that should go to services.
The only thing we know for certain: California’s failure is not due to a lack of government resources or the energy and commitment of its people, but to the gross negligence and a failure of civic duty by its leaders. Our sales tax (10%), property taxes (14 mils), and income taxes (10%, including ordinary income rates on capital gains) rank as the second most onerous in the nation. Fees, fines, fares, and tolls are ubiquitous and historically high. It is official: Californians pay the most and get the least for their money. Just how is it we suffer some of the worst government management since the days of Caligula?
A large part of the problem is the inmates run the asylum. Incredibly, public unions use our tax dollars by the millions in campaigns to defame anyone who comes close to threatening what can only be described as a quasi-criminal enterprise. $900,000 per year salaries for Bell city managers, $750,000 per year for Alameda county health care administrators, $8 million pensions for San Francisco assistant police chiefs. These are no longer public servants. They are public malefactors. If it bothers me that Buster Posey or Tim Lincecum made millions, I can avoid the Giants. If I didn't like Meg Whitman's salary, I could have stopped using EBay. A problem with Carly Fiorina's management? I could change jobs. But if I find the management of California's public bodies outrageous, my only choice is to uproot my entire family, career and business and go to another state. Unfortunately, both inside and outside of California that equation has become all too apparent.
As a political culture, California has always had an eclectic blend of transplanted liberalism, unbridled personal ambition, and a native Western libertarian streak – both the intellectual and cowboy sort. With physical beauty, a savory climate and energetic transplants from across the country and the world, we could get it together when needed. We put the past aside and planned the future – often the future of the world. History? Tradition? Not as interesting when you have the next, next thing. Or at least Twitter and Zynga. Unfortunately, historical amnesia has a price. In the face of adversity, amnesiacs lose perspective, regress, cling to illusions, and draw blanks. Their imagination looks not to the travails and triumphs of the past for bearing and strength, but to the fickle flirtations, impulses and “why not me” envies of this year's accidental successes (movie stars, dot com wonders, sport titans). When these infatuations fail, as they invariably do, regression sets in.
The 2010 California electoral results were just such an exercise in collective historical amnesia and failure of nerve. Californians were offered up two dedicated, accomplished women (Meg Whitman and Carly Fiorina) with desperately needed leadership and management talents. But they saw only the risk and not the reward. This was a moment when California society took one of those regrettable turns. Otherwise capable of so much innovation, creativity, and sense of challenge, Californians sought solace from the economic downturn anywhere but in the real world of cause and consequence -- the daily stuff of leaders like Meg and Carly. In fairness to the voters of California, Meg and Carly did not do nearly enough by way of prior public service (as opposed to business) accomplishment to prove that either of them was a risk worth the taking. Meg Whitman couldn't even be bothered to vote.
Still, the case against Barbara Boxer and Jerry Brown was much stronger. As placeholders for nearly six collective decades in failing organizations, they were simply instruments of collective denial. This pair has accomplished little for others in their aggregate 140 years on the planet. A pet project here or there. A huge dose of self-interest and corruption everywhere else. They represent anti-leaders – drab wallflowers that have achieved significant personal comfort despite mediocrity. They maintain their station by incessantly tearing down their betters and playing to regressive elements. Like the segregationist Democrats of the old South, change is anathema and hopelessness pervades their efforts. Will the man who gave public unions collective bargaining be the one to undo their disastrous consequences? Very doubtful.
One spring leaf of hope on the horizon came from Proposition 20, which the voters overwhelmingly approved. One might debate this particular solution on the issued of redistricting, but the fact is Californians know the patient is sick and dying. They know Sacramento is simply not a place that can be trusted with fundamental liberties. That is a sad commentary, but at least people are aware of the disease.
My fervent hope is that we can punch the accelerator of real change before it is too late.
Tweet

Dan Ariely (Predictably Irrational) belongs to a wave of authors doing well in airport bookstores with tales of offbeat psychological experiments and “I told them so” observations on the Great Meltdown. But while Black Swan and Blink tip a hat to the dismal science (the “invisible hand” of Taleb's fractal mathematics and surprising precision of Gladwell's subconscious), Ariely demands a tabla rasa on economics.
The raison d’etre of behavioral economics per Ariely is that traditional or neo-classical economists mistakenly assume rational economic actors, whereas neuroscience just can’t stop discovering ways primordial wackiness gets the best of cool headed calculus. Whereas certain emotional traits may be adaptive for a nomadic tribesman spearing both dinner and enemies, they are just so much baggage when calculating costs and benefits in a modern market economy.
And thus it follows that all kinds of hell -- from Enron to Subprime Mortgages -- can break loose without "regulation" (whatever that might entail). If there is any utility in classic economics, Ariely does not let us in on the secret. There is a Da Vinci Code-esque allusion to the lost meaning of Adam Smith and other seminal economists, but if you follow Ariely to his logical conclusion, even the good old supply/demand intersection should be tossed on the scrap heap, along with all the apparently illusory trades on Wall Street.
In fairness, there are several fascinating observations in Ariely’s book, and I would recommend checking out one from the library or borrowing one from a friend. Putting methodological quibbles aside, the problems begin when Ariely uses his amalgam of idiosyncratic observations to generate policy suggestions. Despite his prowess examining judgment and decision making related to chocolates, black pearls, basketball tickets and aroused libertarians, he rivals the most hide bound and assuming economist when it comes to his parenthetical hope for government actor benevolence and competence.
If market actors act irrationally with something valuable at stake, why on earth would you assume that a government actor with (a) nothing at stake, (b) benefiting from sovereign immunity and tenure, and (c) imbued with a monopoly on the legitimate use of force would be anything other than an id-driven psychopath. Not that I believe all, or even a majority of, government actors are as I just described. But if you are building a matrix of possibilities, there's plenty of evidence to fill in at least one such quadrant (Idi Amin, Stalin, Saddam Hussein, Hitler, Caligula, Katherine the Great, not to mention "Going Postal" at the lower echelons).
Ariely's recounting of the financial crisis mysteriously evades reference to existing regulations or the pressures banks faced to make uneconomic loans from those well-intentioned regulators. He also avoids the big question: would Countrywide have made so many low down payment loans if Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac -- two hyper-levered government creations -- had not "nudged" the market by buying bundled versions (RMBSs) in the secondary market, while overlooking shaky default insurance (CDSs)? And this without going in to problems of regulatory capture and evidence of out and out fraud and corruption. Yes, I'm talking Senator Dodd and Freddie Mac board member Rahm Emanuel. A refresher with J.C. Scott might remind Ariely of the cognitive fallacies (and often fantasies) that inhabit the minds of our public servants.
Behavioral economics is a valuable addition to the intellectual landscape, but it has a long way to go before public policy makers should throw away classic economics or just assume their own benevolence. Well-functioning markets have been shown time and again to be good at their main task: price discovery. Like democracy, the genius of a market is not that its makes the best choices, but that it delivers a method to eject the really bad ones.
I also found it probative that many of the experiments Ariely cites deal with status and luxury choices amongst a leisure-imbued set of college students facing little actual consequence or criticism. Perhaps more mundane studies, such as the price of corn tortillas, dishwashers, fasteners or bauxite, and hard penalties for bad choices, would be additive to the overall body of work, if less amusing for undergrads. I am thinking of the opening scene of Ghostbusters where false answers elicit an electric shock. Further, at what point does manipulation and failure to meet SEC-style total disclosure (including omission of material facts) come in to play with these many experiments? Three card monty probably not, but still ...
Bottom line: I would like to see more effort put in to reputation theory by Dan Ariely and economists like him. It IS bad social science to assume markets automatically work (or that they are "free"). But what skews a market? What trust mechanisms are needed to create honesty and transparency? How do you get information in to the market and who pays for that? How do you best police misrepresentation? Ariely teases us with a few trust mechanisms (Chapters 11-12) and mentions transparency in passing, but he does little other than pull a few pedestrian thoughts of the Newsweek genre. Ironically, he heartily acknowledges the failure of the stilted behavioral rules of the kind his regulators traditionally rely upon. I'm not sure the NYT would have permitted him on the best sellers list if they realized his most productive advice would appear to be using the Ten Commandments as a screensaver ...
So let's move on from the playing cards, Hershey kisses, Harry Winston baubles, and busty magazines, and start to get serious about fixing our real markets.