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.
The dominant premise in evolution and economics is that a person is being loyal to natural law if he or she attends to self’s interest and welfare before being concerned with the needs and demands of family or community. The public does not realize that this statement is not an established scientific principle but an ethical preference. Nonetheless, this belief has created a moral confusion among North Americans and Europeans because the evolution of our species was accompanied by the disposition to worry about kin and the collectives to which one belongs.Jerome Kagan, Interview of September 17, 2009
[T]he Holocaust transformed our whole way of thinking about war and heroism. War is no longer a proving ground for heroism in the same way it used to be. Instead, war now is something that we must avoid at all costs—because genocides often take place under the cover of war. We are no longer all potential soldiers (though we are that too), but we are all potential victims of the traumas war creates. This, at least, is one important development in the way Western populations envision war, even if it does not always predominate in the thinking of our political leaders.Carolyn J. Dean, Interview of February 01, 2011
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.