A short roundup of good books

I regret to share I haven't been reading as much as I normally do this year. I have, however, cried my way through the first five seasons of Grey's Anatomy (the best seasons). But I'd rather not talk about that period of my life. 

I think it's time to do a roundup of books I have read this year because there are some great ones in there, and great books deserve a wider audience. Let's get to it.

How to Change Your Mind: What the New Science of Psychedelics Teaches Us About Consciousness, Dying, Addiction, Depression, and Transcendence, Michael Pollan

Ok, I know it's only March but this might be the best book I'll read this year. It has changed the way I think about the brain and the ego and has just made my view of the world a little bigger and more curious.

The book contains a mix of science, history and personal experience to guide the reader through the world of psychedelics. Though it's a fascinating subject in and of itself, Pollan's journalism background really shines here. The history in particular gives some fascinating insights into the reputational risks involved with getting into this scientific area, and the politics of banning the substance. There is definitely a yawning gap between what scientists and practitioners observe, and what lawmakers believe.

As a libertarian, my view on drugs is pretty predictable. But even on non-libertarian grounds I think Pollan puts forward a compelling case for legalising and regulating their therapeutic use. The book also raises the question for me of what society has lost in our current legal stance toward these drugs: material losses in finding creative solutions to technical problems or breakthrough insights, as well as losses in the way humans connect. Which all totally sounds like I've drank the Kool Aid. But just read the book and tell me I'm wrong.

Economics in One Virus: An Introduction to Economic Reasoning Through Covid-19, Ryan A. Bourne

This was the first book I read this year. Devoured it on the beach and late into the hot January summer nights. Crucially, I also read it before Omicron was a real threat so I could happily read the book as a retrospective. Otherwise, I'm not sure I'd choose to read a book about Covid for fun. [On that note, if you are the kind of person who enjoys a good horror story, I highly recommend Nightmare Scenario: Inside the Trump Administration's Response to the Pandemic That Changed History]

Back to the book: it's written for people who have no background in economics, as a way of introducing them to basic economic concepts using Covid as an example. The book was published in April 2021 which makes it practically ancient by Covid standards, but the lessons largely hold up.

The author, Ryan Bourne, is a think tanker and it shows. The writing is pitched at just the right level to make the reader feel smart and like they're learning something, and the points are well argued. The book also contains possibly the best explanation of endogeneity I've come across.

For those who are familiar with the book's namesake, Economics in one lesson, this book is that but better. Better because it actually engages with the latest empirical research. And so even if you're a seasoned economist, you'll still get a kick out of the book paying homage to some of the influential econ papers and economic thinkers (I'd call them bloggers or commentators but that doesn't do them justice) at the time, plus some papers that maybe received less attention. 

In fact, I think it was in the acknowledgements that the author says the book stands on the shoulders of economic giants. Which I think is a cool encapsulation of what (as an outsider) I was observing in the economics blogosphere and through economic papers and journal articles: economists putting out their views in real time, drawing on their previous knowledge and experience and trying to apply it to an unfamiliar and fast-moving situation. Covid really exposed some rifts in the economics profession, but being exposed to these exchanges became educational in itself.

Read this book to learn a bit more about economics. Read it to learn more about policy responses to Covid. Read it if you're a big ol' econ nerd who appreciates a good writeup of things you'd already been thinking about or reading about.

Burnt Sugar, Avni Doshi

This is the kind of book you can start and finish in a weekend (if you're single and have no social life). In fact, I recommend reading it like that: the book is good, but it has this tension where you wouldn't want to linger on it too long.

It's a fictional book, set in India, based around a mother-daughter relationship. There are mysteries and twists so I don't want to give too much away. Except I'm still thinking about the ending which means it's a good book.

White Bread: A Social History of the Store-Bought Loaf, Aaron Bobrow-Strain

Guys... I found a whole book dedicated to white bread and it is kind of amazing. A bit of background: I really, really like bread. It is my favourite food group.  So of course I had to pick up this book as soon as I heard of it.

But aside from my obvious bias, this really was a ripper read. It's got social history, economics, ideals of nationhood and imperialism, racism, health fads, food technology and the awe of industrialisation, and casts a sceptical eye on the locovore trend (local food produced within a short distance of where it is consumed). The book's part of a specific genre I really enjoy: a deep history of everyday products and how they shape, and are shaped by, society. You will honestly never look at the rows of supermarket shelves in the bread aisle the same way again.

Exercised: Why Something We Never Evolved to Do Is Healthy and Rewarding, Daniel E. Lieberman

This book was definitely the right book for me at the right time. I'm not proud of it, but for the first time in my life I've started taking my health and fitness seriously. And of course, now that I'm starting to enjoy incremental gains in my strength and fitness I often ask myself: why the hell didn't I do this sooner?

This book answers that simple question: because humans were never evolved to exercise. On that premise alone, I was sold. The book draws insights from anthropology and biology, the book seeks to tackle some of the myths about exercise and explains why exercise is so hard for some of us (me). One of the insights that I found particularly telling is that you actually need a certain level of fitness to receive all of the happy brain chemicals that normally rewards people who exercise. That, of course, really sucks. But again is a useful insight into the uphill struggle faced by those trying to gain fitness.

The myth busting in the book was useful, and I think it's a great source both for people who exercise often and want to know whether they're focusing on the right stuff, and those who exercise never and want to know why it isn't coming naturally to them.

Damn you, Jonathan Haidt

Ever read a book, or learnt a concept that just refuses to leave you alone like a mystery stone in your shoe? No matter how much you try to shake it out, it comes back to irritate you.

I recently finished reading The Righteous Mind: Why good people are divided by politics and religion by Jonathan Haidt. I know, I'm late to the party. It was first published in 2012 and most good political tragics would have read it ages ago. But I'm a firm believer in reading books when the time's right. I think the time is right to ponder this book.

This book has a lot going on, but I want to focus on two key insights that stood out to me.

We are all just press secretaries justifying our reckons

Ugh. This idea has ruined me. Now that I've seen it I can't stop seeing it.

Basically, Haidt's argument is that intuitions on moral matters come first, strategic reasoning comes second. Rationality always comes second to our gut instincts. 

Haidt uses the metaphor that the mind is divided into two parts: an elephant (automatic intuitive thinking) and a rider (controlled, rational processes). The tiny rider serves the powerful elephant: not the other way around. You can see the elephant in action when people have strong gut feelings toward a moral issue. The rider then gets called into action post-hoc to rationally justify the response.

For example, you might start with the moral judgment that income inequality is bad. Rational reasoning kicks in second to try and justify that view.

Now, I read enough philosophy and psychology that this shouldn't have been terribly shocking. Intellectually, I've understood for a long time the limitations of rationality and reasoning. But I've never fully understood the implications.

This idea was eye opening because it helps explain why some political reasoning (I consider political arguments and moral arguments interchangeable) is just so bad. To be honest it's like some people don't even try. Or some people will come up with a rational justification, but when you challenge that argument, they come up with a different argument. And then another, and another. They won't let that gut feeling go. And at some point you realise: this isn't actually a conversation based on reason.

I know NZ libertarians aren't supposed to talk about incest, but Haidt uses it as an example and I'm going to repeat it because it does illustrate the point. Imagine if you asked someone whether it was morally acceptable for a brother and sister to have sex, if no one was there to witness it and they used two forms of contraception and it was consensual. There's a gut reaction to this example, which is why I think it's effective: a lot of people will claim that it is still morally wrong. Then you ask them why. And that's when things unravel. They'll come up with lame excuses like "someone could've walked in", or "the contraception may fail". Even when you tell your responder that their reasons aren't relevant, they refuse to change their mind.

If you've ever been in a political or moral debate with someone with strong priors, the exchange will feel familiar.

Why do people do this?

Basically, because inside all of us is a mini press secretary that automatically seeks to justify our moral sentiments. The press secretaries don't just function to convince others, they are so effective they can often work to help us convince ourselves. Ever told yourself a lie so good that you eventually convince yourself it is truth? You can thank your press secretary for that. When we want desperately to believe something is true, all we have to ask ourselves is 'can I believe that?' Conversely, when we desperately don't want to believe something, we ask ourselves 'must I believe that?' The reasons aren't purely selfish: as social creatures, we want to make 'our team' look good. As Haidt describes:

In moral and political matters we are often groupish rather than selfish. We deploy our reasoning skills to support our team, and to demonstrate commitment to our team.

Why does all this matter?

First, because it helped me understand the limitations of appealing to rationality and reason when hoping to change someone's mind.

Second, this idea can also help explain why people believe things, even when their reasons are really bad. Hear me out here: could this help us understand anti vaccine disinformation? A common narrative is that disinformation and misinformation is to blame for brainwashing people (I don't buy this characterisation, but it's a narrative). But what if the directions of causality are all wrong? What if the moral sentiment comes first (bodily autonomy), and the reasoning acts as backfill? Sure, we can spend effort on tackling the disinformation and misinformation. And it is often bad reasoning, for sure. But if reasoning is simply playing backfill, then you're not really getting to the heart of the matter.

Once you see it you can't un-see it.

Next time you engage with someone who you know strongly disagrees with your view, take a second to check whether you're trying to battle a Hydra. Sure, not all moral and political arguments are like that. Some are entered into in good faith and open minds.

But what do you do when it seems like you're talking to a brick wall?

This brings me to my second point.

Arguing within the moral matrix

A useful takeaway from Haidt's book is his conceptualisation of moral tastebuds. We might all have the same tastebuds, but we don't all respond the same way to different flavours. When these tastebuds are triggered, they invoke a rapid and intuitive response. The six tastebuds Haidt identifies are:

• Care/harm
• Fairness/cheating
• Loyalty/betrayal
• Authority/subversion
• Sanctity/degradation
• Liberty/oppression

For, say, libertarians, we might react strongly to the liberty/oppression tastebud but we nevertheless will lean towards the other tastebuds to varying degrees too. Liberals (the American use of the term) and Conservatives can be understood the same way: we all share the same moral tastebuds but can differ quite significantly in the weight we give them. If you want to appeal to people with views different to yourself, you need to appeal to the moral tastebuds they react most to.

As Haidt puts it

Once people join a political team, they get ensnared in its moral matrix. They see confirmation of their grand narrative everywhere, and it's difficult -- perhaps impossible -- that they are wrong if you argue with them from outside of their matrix.

This characterisation is simultaneously super obvious and rather counterintuitive. For example, it's really easy to forget that some people don't care about liberty as much as I care about liberty. 

You make the most progress in political debates when you appeal to the values that the other person holds, rather than defending the values that you hold. 

To conclude

I have to admit, the implications of Haidt's theory are not overly comforting for those who like to ground themselves in evidence and reason. However, I do think it takes the weight off, knowing that failing to change someone's mind isn't necessarily because of a failure in putting the best evidence forward. And the theory offers an alternative route: appealing to the other person's moral values, when nothing else works. 

More than anything, the theory has also made me more appreciative of times when people do change their minds. And it makes me think, why does this happen? An obvious answer is that sometimes people just don't have a moral stake in the matter, making them more open to rational reasoning. I can certainly identify cases where I personally just don't care enough about an issue, I'm totally willing to have my mind changed based on a good argument because I have no moral and instinctive position on the matter.

There are also situations when the moral lens in which you a view an issue can shift. Say you care about the government assisting the most vulnerable. And you will passionately defend a policy because you believe it will help them. But then you learn that it doesn't actually help the people you are most concerned about. So you change your policy position. Your moral foundation hasn't changed, you still care about the same group of people, but your views on this particular policy might shift.

Of course, the above only works if people are truly honest about their moral underpinnings, and what they claim to care about. 

So to wrap this all up, if you haven't already read this book, I'd go in with eyes wide open. If you think you can change the world simply by providing good evidence and a good argument, then you'll probably find the book quite cynical. However, if you're already in a space where you have an inkling that maybe there's something else driving political and moral views that is difficult to shift with evidence alone, then this is a good book to pick up.

Not to sound dramatic, but this book has kind of ruined my life, and I'm OK with that. That is, until I jump onto the next grand theory.

Are Fair Pay Agreements dead yet?

This post has been sitting in drafts for a while. Time to brain dump everything 2021 so that I can comfortably let my brain turn to mush over Christmas. But remember this post next year when this issue becomes big again.

A couple of weeks ago (or a lifetime ago in politics, depending on what speed your news clock runs at) BusinessNZ made the announcement that it will be pulling out of its role in the Fair Pay Agreements (FPA) system.

To refresh your memories, FPAs are the government's next step in its plan to bring about full communism by next election. 

Just kidding.

Essentially, FPAs are supposed to enable employer representatives and unions within a sector to bargain for minimum terms and conditions that will apply to all employees in that industry or occupation. In the Cabinet paper to establish approval to draft the legislation, BusinessNZ were identified as the 'default' employer representative: the representative that would come to the bargaining table if no other industry representative were willing to.

Back in July I wrote about how BusinessNZ's role in the process was a bit of an eyebrow raiser. Considering it had already publicly denounced the FPA system, it seemed deeply weird that it would take a pivotal role in enabling the system. As several commentators have pointed out, including this excellent Herald editorial, the only real surprise about Business NZ's withdrawal is that it took so long.

So what does all this mean for FPAs?

Welp, here's the Minister in charge replying to a press gallery journalist regarding BusinessNZ's move:

So... no need to worry. This almost sounds like a good thing for FPAs! First Union certainly seem super casual about BusinessNZ's announcement.

Here's the thing though: for collective bargaining to work, industry representatives do need to come to the table. Is that a realistic expectation? Federated Farmers were one of the first cabs off the rank to announce that they support BusinessNZ and will also refuse to be a negotiating partner.

It's easy to imagine a world where other industry reps follow that lead. Bargaining for something so fundamental puts a heck of a lot of pressure and reputational risk on the industry representative. Many industry reps have not traditionally played a collective bargaining role. And of those who do, it still requires institutional knowledge and experience to be able to bargain at scale, carrying responsibility for negotiating wages for an entire sector or industry. 

Are there any industry/employer representatives who are ready and willing to step up? Are there any other industry representatives who have strictly ruled the role out? That'd be useful public knowledge before an FPA bill is released for public submissions.

And then there's the option of going to determination: basically, if there's no industry representative to come to the table, the wages and conditions for an entire occupation and sector will be determined by a panel of Employment Relations Authority members.

Now, I don't want to get into semantics and the meaning of words (I'm still not over private taxi companies being counted as public transport by the way), but having the Employment Relations Authority set wages and conditions is not collective bargaining. There is no bargaining! Does this matter for FPAs? Well, you'd think so. Here's the objective of the system, as set out in the Cabinet paper:

Let's assume for a moment --and it's not a crazy assumption-- that a lot of FPAs end up being sent to determination because no industry representative was willing or able to come to the table. How would the Employment Relations Authority go about setting wages and conditions?

It's actually not straightforward at all figuring out what the objective of a sector/occupation-wide minimum wage should be, let alone how that translates into something binding for all employers. In fact, it's hard enough figuring out what the objective of the standard minimum wage is. In David Maré and Dean Hyslop's Minimum Wages in New Zealand: Policy and practice in the 21st century, the authors argue

A key challenge for evaluating the effectiveness of minimum wage policies is the lack of a clear statement of what minimum wages aim to achieve. Minimum wage policies can potentially contribute to several key policy objectives. They do not, however, operate in isolation, and their impacts depend on their interactions with other policy settings in areas such as industrial relations, tax and benefit policies, employment and training policies, and business support, making evaluation even more challenging.

The living wage has its problems too, in that it is a clunky calculation based on assumptions about household size, the status of other household workers, hours worked, consumption bundles (what people spend their money on), and national average rents. 

Coming up with a sector or occupation-wide minimum wage that is at all meaningful requires being really clear about what problem needs to be fixed, and having the economic tools available to assess whether that problem explains relatively low wages in that industry/occupation. That's no small task for the best economists in the country, let alone a panel of Employment Relations Authority members.

FPAs aren't dead yet.

But it's looking increasingly possible that the system will look nothing like the system that was originally envisaged: a collective bargaining system.

Hold that thought for next year, and pray we won't all be too distracted with Covid to notice the legislation coming through.

Vaccine certificate rules chuck taxi drivers under the bus

I really feel for taxi drivers right now.

While many businesses are having to shut up shop because they do not want to turn away unvaccinated* customers, taxis have the opposite problem: they're not allowed to turn away the unvaccinated. 

This week the Taxi Federation called on the government to remove the prohibition on taxi drivers (which includes rideshare drivers) being able to require vaccine passes and turn away unvaccinated passengers. RNZ reports:

Covid-19 Response Minister Chris Hipkins said taxis were considered public transport and therefore did not require My Vaccine Pass.

"The government has been careful to balance the need to keep people safe from Covid-19 while ensuring everyone can access food, medicine and transport."

My initial reaction? This seems nuts. 

After a bit of thinking, I still think this is nuts. But it also gets to some gritty issues around what constitutes a life preserving service, the regulation of private businesses, and trading off different people's rights against each other. 

What constitutes a life preserving service?

Oh no. I fear debating this is about as straightforward as MBIE trying to define what counts as an essential service. Here's how taxis seem to fall into the criteria:

The linked briefing is the most fitting official document I've managed to find on the topic (if I got this wrong, I'm only willing to take half the blame: finding any kind of information on the traffic light system seems to lead to endless clickholes).

Now, I don't think anyone except the meanest anti-anti-vaxxers would argue with the intention of the policy. But the way the policy is applied is going to capture a lot of non life-preserving travel. Taxi drivers aren't just prohibited from turning down an unvaccinated passenger who needs to get to the supermarket or doctor. They're prohibited from turning them down fullstop.

And I'm not a transport expert, but it hurts my brain trying to think of how private businesses can be counted as public transport. I thought I knew what public transport meant: services provided by or contracted by central or local government. When I think public transport, I think buses, ferries and trains. Is Uber now public transport? When did this happen? My entire understanding of private enterprise is ruined.

Definitions aside, I'm also not psyched about just having a blanket prohibition on rejecting unvaccinated passengers. I get why policy wonks like it: it's administratively simple and easy to communicate (because the traffic light system is so easy to follow so far), and easy to enforce. But tidy policy isn't necessarily good for taxi drivers when it exposes them to more risky events than necessary.

Taking away choice about risk tolerances

There might very well be taxi drivers who are willing to take on the risk of unvaccinated passengers. But there are clearly also drivers who are worried, and who are uncomfortable taking on that risk. Not to mention drivers who are old thus vulnerable, or who live with people who can't get vaccinated themselves.

And for the sake of argument, I see the situation of taxi drivers as fundamentally different to the risks taken on by doctors, nurses, or police: they never signed up to protect and save lives. Nor are they comparable to supermarkets where physical distancing is a lot easier to enforce. They're not even comparable to bus drivers who are contracted to perform a public service.

In normal times, there are only limited circumstances under which taxi drivers can turn down a passenger (and now that I think about it, I'm not sure I'm 100% cool with that regulation either, but one battle at a time). But importantly, one of those reasons is if they believe their personal safety is compromised.

Surely the risk of catching Covid is an example of personal safety being compromised? And if not, remind me again why the unvaccinated have fewer rights occupying other businesses under the traffic light system?

Vaccine mandates are a mucky business, but equally mucky is banning the right of private businesses and individuals to take on extra precautions in order to feel safe. 

I think the word "feel" here is significant: perceptions of safety have an element of subjectivity. Even if a new study comes out tomorrow saying vaccinated people are just as risky unvaccinated people (vaccine sceptics, don't come at me with said study. I'm aware of the claims, and I'm aware of the critique of the claims), I'd still back the right of individuals to take their own precautions in an extremely uncertain environment.

On the one hand, the government is stopping people from taking on risks that they might be willing to take on. But on the other hand, it is also forcing people to take on risks that they are unwilling to. I mean, force is a strong word. I take that back. Taxi drivers can always just go out of business and become unemployed.

Trading off different people's rights

At the heart of most important Covid responses is the trading off of human rights. I for one am willing to give up a little bit of freedom in the short run if it means a safer, more freedom-filled life in the long run.

Minister Hipkins said that "the government has been careful to balance the need to keep people safe from Covid-19 while ensuring everyone can access food, medicine and transport."

In the case of taxi drivers, the decision seems pretty stark: a taxi driver's right to health is less important than the unvaccinated's right to life preserving services.

As the Taxi Federation puts it:

"We are being forced to provide a service to those that consciously refuse to protect themselves and others, willingly threatening the safety and wellbeing of our communities."

In an ideal world, you wouldn't need to make a trade-off: both sets of rights are important and both sets of rights ought to be advanced. It's stating the obvious to point out that this isn't an ideal world.

Is there a better way?

Full disclosure: I do not work in Covid policy, do not want to work in Covid policy and I don't envy those who have to work on these types of problems every single day. This stuff is hard. But there seem to be at least a few options on the table:

• Narrow the scope. Don't force taxi drivers to drive the unvaccinated to their mates' houses (I was about to say the pub, but they can't go there anyway) or wherever they go for fun these days (the park?). But do ensure they accept trips to actual life preserving services like the doctor or supermarket. 
• Don't count private businesses as public transport. That's an option. And if there are areas that aren't well serviced by public transport, I don't see why private businesses should bear the cost (if they choose not to). My first best option is to allow private businesses to choose whether to require a certificate. Call me a free market radical, but I'd be surprised if taxi drivers who are keen to just make a living wouldn't service those areas once the gap in the market has been identified.
• KiwiRide. I didn't say this was a good option. But rather than sticking an arbitrary public transport label on private businesses, why not at least start formally contracting them to provide what is apparently an important public service.

Maybe my options suck. But at the very least, I think this issue highlights the flipside of vaccine mandates. The government is exercising enormous powers to minimise Covid risks. But those powers can also prohibit individuals from exercising their own ability to take precautions to minimise risks in the same way.

*A note on wording: I'm using the term unvaccinated to refer to those who choose to be unvaccinated. In my mental model, people with vaccine exemptions should be treated equally to the vaccinated.

Human Rights Commission is hiring an economist

So, the Human Rights Commission (HRC) is advertising to hire a senior economist [edit: was advertising! I started writing this up yesterday but the ad has been pulled from its website today]. First reaction: I think that's great! I was genuinely excited and intrigued when I saw this advertisement pop up.

Let me explain. You see, I haven't heard much from the HRC lately. Which is a bit surprising. This is a pretty important time for having a national conversation on legitimate limitations on human rights: vaccine certificates, vaccine mandates for certain industries and occupations, lockdowns, and curtailing anti-lockdown protests. 

For what it's worth, I have been broadly comfortable with where NZ has landed on a lot of these matters (although the handling of Auckland is getting messier by the day and I don't envy the decisionmakers). That's more based on gut feelings about the benefits outweighing the costs. But human rights is more HRC's domain than mine, do they have a position on this? 

More importantly, does HRC really want to cede public commentary about the human rights implications of vaccine mandates to the likes of Damien Grant? I wouldn't think so. And yet, here we are. 

I see that there's some advice on the HRC website that looks pretty good, but it doesn't cover the latest traffic light settings which call for vaccinations in a lot more situations than the ‘high risk' occupations currently described (MIQ and border workers, healthcare, disability support and education settings). The website's guidance says

This approach to balancing rights will of course depend on the particular issue and context. For example, the Human Rights Act applies differently to public decision-makers compared to private entities, such as businesses. What is ultimately important is that human rights guide decision-making, whether by government decision-makers or businesses. The Human Rights Commission encourages businesses, service providers and employers to seek legal advice to ensure their Covid-19 policies do not breach the rights of others.

Which is...very safe advice. But it'd be useful to know what human rights are at stake, instances where human rights might need to be balanced against each other, and possible grounds for limiting rights. We've got some court judgments coming through that test these waters, but given this is all pretty new I think it's worth making the public aware of the universe of possible interpretations. 

And more recently, HRC expressed concern that the Government’s new traffic light system does not give priority to ensuring high vaccination rates among Māori before easing restrictions. I've got no strong allergic reactions to advocating for high vax rates, especially for a vulnerable group. Ensuring that everyone who wants to get vaccinated is able to, or that people receive the right information and guidance to make an informed decision about getting vaccinated, seems like the right way to go to protect the right to health. 

But, given it is surely part of their analytical framework, it was disappointing the HRC weren't explicit about what other human rights they've balanced their concerns against.

Besides this recent media appearance, the HRC seem to be avoiding the elephant in the room: there's another niggly bit about the traffic light system that people are worried about. It's the idea that vaccination will be compulsory for some activities. Actually, a wide range of activities. Whether you agree this is good or bad thing, you have to agree that this is big. 

I thought maybe that's why HRC are looking to hire an economist. Big issues like this involve striking a fair balance between multiple interests -- all protected by different bits of human rights law. Limiting the exercise of some human rights can be acceptable if the response is proportionate. Who better than an economist to look into the proportionality of responses? Economic frameworks are useful in analysing the trade-offs between multiple interests. I really thought this is where they were going with the advertisement.

Economists have done some good work in  this area. If you haven't caught it already (it would be rude of me to presume that you do not regularly read the latest working papers coming out of the National Bureau of Economics), there's a great piece looking at the extent individual preferences for protecting  rights and civil liberties are elastic to health insecurity. In other words, how individual preferences for protecting human rights and liberties might change (or on the flipside, be resistant to change) when there is a health threat like Covid. There's a lot of potential for NZ work to be done in the area: what are the specific trade-offs people make? What are the differences in elasticities between different demographic groups? What are the contingent factors that can tip the scales? If you're as excited about this paper as I am, you might be interested in their finding:

Turning to differences across sociodemographic groups within countries, we find that individuals disadvantaged by education, income, or race (in the United States) are less willing to sacrifice rights than more advantaged individuals. The smaller elasticity of Black Americans with respect to health insecurity may be surprising given the disproportionate impact of COVID-19 on communities of color, but is consistent with a longstanding struggle for equal rights and few substitute means for accessing political power (e.g., lobbying or donations) outside of exercising traditional democratic freedoms. 

This suggests that the ability to sacrifice rights in times of crisis may be better characterized as a “luxury good” than a sacred value. 

A deeper understanding of how people are valuing certain human rights (and why) seems like useful information for HRC to have up their sleeve. 

And let's be honest, HRC probably could have done with an economist before Covid times too. Remember in 2019 when they called for free early childhood education for all, fair pay agreement contracts for all, and raising the minimum wage to a living wage? I believe the Act Party called for the HRC to be abolished after that paper (OK, you caught me, I'm only linking to this article because the editors picked a hilarious picture of David Seymour to accompany the piece). All of these arguments would be a lot more compelling if HRC could assure the public that they'd run the numbers and were convinced that the benefits outweighed the costs, and done some thinking about who bears the costs and benefits and whether that's justified.

But anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've read the job description and I'm not fully convinced that this is the work the HRC economist will be engaging in. The ad has disappeared between yesterday and today, maybe because the position has been filled. But here's a screenshot. 

I suspect the pool of economists who have "demonstrable experience in advising on the implications of Te Tiriti and colonisation on economic wellbeing" is pretty small. 

Whoever fills the advertised position, I hope they can bring the concept of proportionality into HRC's regular analysis. I don't want to sound clichéd, but these are unprecedented times, and the HRC has a potentially important role in advocating for how to balance competing human rights and duties.

Oh, and to avoid any doubt: no, I did not use this post as the cover letter for my application.