Last time, we considered whether Bob really is always exercising free choice in the (fictitious) Free Market.™ Today, we consider Bob's situation when he does have choices and has to choose how to allocate whatever resources he has in order to obtain what he needs and doesn't have. This is where money comes in. Bob and Alice were just swapping corn for chickens, but reality is much more complicated. If Bob was exchanging, say, baseball cards for food they would be worth wildly different amounts to different food sellers, and trying to find the best deal would be nearly impossible. Bob would have to haggle with each of them individually before he could figure it out, and he might be dead by then.
I won’t go into the deep philosophical weeds about what money really is. Karl Polanyi calls it a “fictitious commodity.” It’s worth something because we pretend it is. For money to work properly in the economists’ magical world, its value for each person has to be equivalent to a quantity of an imaginary entity called “utility.” Supposedly we go through life trying to maximize our utility, a mysterious psychological property, something like the satisfaction of our desires measured in standard units, so that $1 can be equal to 1 utile. People are presumed to be “rational actors” – they calculate exactly how to allocate their monetary resources to acquire the maximum number of utiles. I won’t keep you in suspense: people do not actually do this.
Most fundamentally, we just don’t have the time or energy. There isn’t room in people’s lives or brains to thoroughly or even cursorily research every product on offer, deeply and honestly ponder our short- and long-term desires, calculate the probabilities of a purchase making us happy or disappointing us (people are very bad at probabilistic intuitions anyway), and accurately allocate our resources so as to maximize our utility or happiness or whatever you want to call it.
Instead, we rely on “heuristics,” cognitive shortcuts, and we often act impulsively. The term “bounded rationality” was used by Herbert Simon in the 1950s to capture the idea that we put limited cognitive resources into decision making, enough that our choices are usually good enough to feel satisfying, even if they could be even better if we worked harder at it.
Later work, most notably begun by the psychologists Amos Tversky and Daniel Kahneman, empirically explored the decision heuristics people actually use, and uncovered many so-called biases, that is ways in which people’s decision making differs from earlier assumptions of what is “rational.” They wrote many papers. One of their best known and seminal contributions is called Prospect Theory, the main idea of which is that people tend to be more risk averse than they are acquisitive, in other words losing fifty bucks hurts more than gaining fifty bucks feels good. (This obviously doesn’t work with gambling addicts, however.)
Subsequent work by them and others has revealed many ways in which people’s spending and investing behavior deviates from what was previously considered “rational.” I won’t belabor it here, but for now, I’ll just say that you wouldn’t see all that advertising if it didn’t work, and corporations aren’t spending the money to support your rational choice. Keep that in mind as you see what seems like 50% of all advertising being for drugs, snake oil, Medicare Advantage plans, and medical provider corporations.
Next we'll have more to say about "utility."