At each exhibit, you’ll learn about a different, seemingly
insane ritual used to organize human life, and learn a different lesson about
how to use economic logic to find its underlying sanity. Take, for instance,
judicial ordeals: For more than 400 years, between the ninth and the early
thirteenth centuries, European legal systems adjudged the guilt or innocence of
criminal defendants by asking them to plunge their hands into a cauldron of
boiling water to pluck out a ring. In these ordeals, a priest asked God to let
the water burn the defendant’s hand if he were guilty and to perform a miracle
that prevented the water from burning his hand if he were innocent. Confidence
that God would fulfill the priest’s request reflected a popular belief
according to which these ordeals were iudiciua Dei—“judgments of God.”
On the surface, these ordeals seem, well, stupid. But think about
them for a moment using economic logic, in terms of incentives…
Suppose you’re a medieval European who’s been accused of
stealing your neighbor’s cow. The court orders you to the ordeal. Like other
medieval Europeans, you believe in iudicium Dei—that a priest, through the
appropriate rituals, can get God to reveal the truth, performing a miracle that
prevents the water from burning you if you’re innocent, letting you burn if you’re
not.
If you undergo the ordeal and God says you’re guilty, you
have to pay a large fine. If He says you’re innocent, you’re cleared of the
charge and pay nothing. Alternatively, you can avoid undergoing the ordeal by
confessing to having stolen the cow. If you confess, you pay a fine, but a
smaller one since you came clean.
What will you do?
Suppose you’re guilty: You know you stole your neighbor’s cow,
and so does God. In this case, you expect that if you undergo the ordeal, God
will let the boiling water burn you, evidencing your guilt. Thus, you’ll have
to pay the large fine, and you’ll have your hand boiled to rags, to boot. In
contrast, if you confess, you’ll save a bit of money, not to mention your hand.
So, if you’re guilty, you’ll confess.
Now suppose you’re innocent: You know you didn’t steal your
neighbor’s cow and, again, so does God. In this case, you expect that if you
undergo the ordeal, God will perform a miracle that prevents the boiling water
from burning you, evidencing your innocence. Thus, you won’t have to pay any
fine, and you’ll keep your hand intact. In contrast, if you confess, you’ll
have to pay a fine for a theft you didn’t commit. So, if you’re innocent, you’ll
undergo the ordeal.
Are you staring to see the logic? Because of your belief in
iudicium Dei, the specter of the ordeal leads you to choose one way if you’re
guilty—confess—and another way if you’re innocent—undergo the ordeal—revealing
the truth about your criminal status though the choice you make. By asking God
to “out” you, the legal system incentivizes you to “out” yourself!
I know what you’re thinking: “But the water will still boil
everyone who sticks their hand in it!” And you’re right—if the water is
actually boiling. But it wasn’t; to find out how and why, you’ll have to take
the tour, where this and umpteen other questions that just occurred to you
about these ordeals are answered.
Spontaneous generation is one of those wrong theories that clutter the basements of the biological sciences and that now look so very obviously wrong that it is hard to see how anyone could have taken them seriously in the first place. Why wouldn’t it occur to anyone that flies might be laying eggs that were too small for us to see? How simple would the crucial experiment be? What I have tried to do in much of my work is to turn this ‘obvious wrongness’ on its head—why, exactly, does it seem so obviously wrong?—and see what the new picture that emerges from that inquiry says about science and our belief in its results.Daryn Lehoux, Interview of November 13, 2017
It’s commonplace to say that humor is subjective, since what’s funny to you might not be funny to me. But humor is also a loaded concept. If you – or your people – have no sense of humor, or the wrong one, that means you’re less rational, tolerant, understanding, or civilized. You don’t get it. Or, worse, you lack something human. Modern Chinese debates about humor were very much caught up with these fundamental questions of value.Christopher Rea, Interview of October 26, 2016
A close-up
At each exhibit, you’ll learn about a different, seemingly insane ritual used to organize human life, and learn a different lesson about how to use economic logic to find its underlying sanity. Take, for instance, judicial ordeals: For more than 400 years, between the ninth and the early thirteenth centuries, European legal systems adjudged the guilt or innocence of criminal defendants by asking them to plunge their hands into a cauldron of boiling water to pluck out a ring. In these ordeals, a priest asked God to let the water burn the defendant’s hand if he were guilty and to perform a miracle that prevented the water from burning his hand if he were innocent. Confidence that God would fulfill the priest’s request reflected a popular belief according to which these ordeals were iudiciua Dei—“judgments of God.”
On the surface, these ordeals seem, well, stupid. But think about them for a moment using economic logic, in terms of incentives…
Suppose you’re a medieval European who’s been accused of stealing your neighbor’s cow. The court orders you to the ordeal. Like other medieval Europeans, you believe in iudicium Dei—that a priest, through the appropriate rituals, can get God to reveal the truth, performing a miracle that prevents the water from burning you if you’re innocent, letting you burn if you’re not.
If you undergo the ordeal and God says you’re guilty, you have to pay a large fine. If He says you’re innocent, you’re cleared of the charge and pay nothing. Alternatively, you can avoid undergoing the ordeal by confessing to having stolen the cow. If you confess, you pay a fine, but a smaller one since you came clean.
What will you do?
Suppose you’re guilty: You know you stole your neighbor’s cow, and so does God. In this case, you expect that if you undergo the ordeal, God will let the boiling water burn you, evidencing your guilt. Thus, you’ll have to pay the large fine, and you’ll have your hand boiled to rags, to boot. In contrast, if you confess, you’ll save a bit of money, not to mention your hand. So, if you’re guilty, you’ll confess.
Now suppose you’re innocent: You know you didn’t steal your neighbor’s cow and, again, so does God. In this case, you expect that if you undergo the ordeal, God will perform a miracle that prevents the boiling water from burning you, evidencing your innocence. Thus, you won’t have to pay any fine, and you’ll keep your hand intact. In contrast, if you confess, you’ll have to pay a fine for a theft you didn’t commit. So, if you’re innocent, you’ll undergo the ordeal.
Are you staring to see the logic? Because of your belief in iudicium Dei, the specter of the ordeal leads you to choose one way if you’re guilty—confess—and another way if you’re innocent—undergo the ordeal—revealing the truth about your criminal status though the choice you make. By asking God to “out” you, the legal system incentivizes you to “out” yourself!
I know what you’re thinking: “But the water will still boil everyone who sticks their hand in it!” And you’re right—if the water is actually boiling. But it wasn’t; to find out how and why, you’ll have to take the tour, where this and umpteen other questions that just occurred to you about these ordeals are answered.