Freakonomics - Feelings of Superiority and Inadequacy

Freakonomics: Revised Edition

Authors: Steven D. Levitt & Stephen J. Dubner

Morality, it could be argued, represents the way that people would like the world to work; whereas economics represents how it actually does work. –Stephen Dubner

If you learn how to look at data in the right way, you can explain riddles that otherwise might have seemed impossible. Because there is nothing like the sheer power of numbers to scrub away layers of confusion and contradiction. –Stephen Dubner

It wasn’t gun control or a strong economy or new police strategies that finally blunted the American crime wave. It was, among other factors, the reality that the pool of potential criminals had dramatically shrunk. –Stephen Dubner

When people aren't compelled to pay the full costs of their actions, they have little incentive to change their behavior. –Stephen Dubner

Amazon.com describes Freakonomics:

Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool? What do schoolteachers and sumo wrestlers have in common? How much do parents really matter?

These may not sound like typical questions for an economist to ask. But Steven D. Levitt is not a typical economist. He studies the riddles of everyday life—from cheating and crime to parenting and sports—and reaches conclusions that turn conventional wisdom on its head.

Freakonomics is a groundbreaking collaboration between Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, an award-winning author and journalist. They set out to explore the inner workings of a crack gang, the truth about real estate agents, the secrets of the Ku Klux Klan, and much more.

Through forceful storytelling and wry insight, they show that economics is, at root, the study of incentives—how people get what they want or need, especially when other people want or need the same thing.

I listened to the audible.com version of this book, read by one of its authors, Stephen J. Dubner. A few times while listening to it, I experienced a bit of déjà vu. A few years ago I listened to Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point, which also uses data to examine questions I’d never thought to ask but wish I had. Books like Gladwell’s (Blink and Outliers are two of his other works) and Freakonomics are fascinating to read. I have a hard time putting into words exactly how they make me feel, but it’s somewhere between ravenous and insufficient. Listening to even ten minutes of any of these works makes me hungry for more – I can’t seem to stop, as if I’m consumed by a need to find out more, delve deeper, eat up every word dropped from the mouth of the author.

But as fascinated as I am by everything they say, I find myself feeling completely insufficient as a human being. Why hadn't I looked at these questions in this way? Why hadn't I thought to ask them? How is it that everything they say sounds so obvious, yet they’re the first person to have broached the question and gotten those exact results? When will I find the magic question and answer that propels me to the status of Levitt and Gladwell? For surely there has to be some as yet unasked question with as yet un-examined data that will clearly lead me down the path to discovery.

I listened to every second of Dubner’s 6 hour and 55 minute reading of the revised edition of his book, eyes wide and mouth agape head shaking and nodding furiously with each point he made. I marveled at the simplicity of the words and the complexity of the data. Yes, of course the legalization of abortion in the 70s aided in the decrease of crime in the late 80s and 90s. Yes, of course sumo wrestlers are driven by the same motivation as schoolteachers to cheat. Yes of course realtors will undersell your house more often than not.

Rationally, of course, I know that everything Dubner says and Levitt determines can likely be argued against by economists of a different school of approach. But data presentation can be mesmerizing to someone not constantly surrounded by it. And I was sucked in from minute one.

I checked out some of the reviews of the book, post-listen, on Audible.com, from whence I’d downloaded it. The first one is titled "Good, but be careful." I didn't have to read the review to know what the writer was warning against. It’s easy to be pulled into Levitt’s and Dubner’s point of view because that is the one being presented. It is much harder to listen objectively and realize that everything – even cold, hard data – can be seen and explained from more than one angle. Heck, Dubner even says something to that effect within the book!

The second review that appears is titled "Interesting yet lacks unity." Now this subject-line made me laugh: Dubner flat-out says in the introduction that this book does not have a unifying theme. He says there is no thread that runs through each subject matter attacked, unless you count "Odd Questions Asked & Answered" as a theme. There is no single rigid approach to the data or subjects addressed – the book tackles education, Sumo wrestling, gangs, drugs, real estate, crime control and the importance of parents, among other things.

If, my friend, you choose to read this book – or to listen to it, as I did – go into it knowing two things: 1) it will lack unity; and 2) it will make you feel both incredibly intelligent and sufficiently stupid at the same time. I don’t know how you will respond to that combination, but I for one, loved it, and I’m pretty sure I now hold the keys to the universe and to the void, keys for which I will never find the right locks.

My takeaway: Sometimes it takes more than having the right answers – it takes asking the right questions! And yesterday’s 'Britney' is tomorrow’s 'Waverly.'

Gone with the Wind - Adaptation at its Best (or at least not its worst)

Gone with the Wind

Director: Victor Fleming

What gentlemen says and what they thinks is two different things. –Mammy

With enough courage, you can do without a reputation. –Rhett

As God is my witness they’re not going to lick me. I’m going to live through this… as God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again. –Scarlett

I’m not in love with you anymore than you are with me. Heaven help the man whoever really loves you. –Rhett

She’s the only dream I've ever had that didn't die in the face of reality. –Ashley

Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. –Rhett

I’m not sure I need to post the Netflix description of this movie, since I included a description of the book only a two posts ago, but I’m not one to stray from tradition, so here it you go:

Director Victor Fleming's 1939 epic adaption of Margaret Mitchell's novel of the same name stars Vivien Leigh as self-absorbed, headstrong Scarlett O'Hara, a Southern Belle who meets her match in Rhett Butler (Clark Gable) just as the Civil War breaks out. Living on a large cotton plantation called Tara in rural Georgia in 1861, Scarlett sees her beloved home and life as she knows it go up in flames -- but will her true love be lost too?

I can understand why people take to the movie so much. Had I not read the book, I might have even liked the story of Scarlett and Rhett and Ashley. Whoever it was that adapted the book to make the movie made some wise decisions in choosing which parts to cut. There are, of course, some choices I would question, but overall, the scenes included portrayed a very different Scarlett than the one presented in the book.

While some minor characters were not included in the movie version, the writer and casting director did a great job working with the ones that were kept. The best two characters – minor though they are – are Aunt Pittypat and Prissy. These two women added some timely humor and color whenever they entered the scenes.

One contention I had with the characters was Melanie. While I like that she was portrayed as a much stronger person mentally and emotionally in the movie than she was in the book, I didn't care much for the way the actress feigned weakness, grasping feebly onto railings, furniture or people every time she tried to move. Melanie is supposed to be a delicate creature, no doubt. But the way it came across, at least to me, was that Melanie was capable but chose to act otherwise. The pain and weakness that should have been written on her face wasn't there, making it look like she was just being lazy, not struggling against herself to do something she was not physically able to do. I don't know whether I should fault the actor for not being convincing or the director for not demanding more intensity.

There was one aspect of the movie that I found extremely lacking realism – akin to Melanie’s facial display of strain – that I felt actually did work to the story's advantage. Throughout the movie, the actors were set against ridiculously fake backdrops. Yet, as unbelievable as they were, they somehow seemed fitting. Maybe it’s because, had they been more realistic, the movie would have been downright depressing: the grays of a war-torn country, the blood and fire and smoke, the permeation of death, despair and poverty. More realistic scenes would have darkened the mood of the movie, serving to remind the viewer that the war was real, as were the poor combat conditions, the emaciated soldiers, the towns' scarcity of clothing, food and even living conditions. All of these sights would have detracted from the love story, which, at its simplest, Gone with the Wind truly is. I think the bright reds and yellows of the bold backdrops served to add to the romance, the rapture, the heat of the story. Not only that, but it somehow added a softness that the book often lacked, particularly to Scarlett. For even a character as sharp and selfish as Scarlett can benefit from good lighting.

However, even lighting did not make me warm to the interactions between Scarlett and Ashley. Every time they came on the screen, I cringed. The immaturity in the love they claimed to feel for each other, especially in contrast to the genuine love Rhett obviously held for Scarlett, angered me. I never bought into the story that he was her one true love or that they were meant to be together, each suffering silently (or, in Scarlett's case, not so silently). I think it was perhaps worse in the movie than the book, where Ashley’s love was concerned. The movie contained a few scenes where Ashley appeared to genuinely love Melanie. He rushed to her, kissed her, hugged her, all unprompted. So the viewer could foresee his epiphany that Melanie was the "only dream" he’d ever had that didn't "die in the face of reality"; it made sense. The book, however, showed Ashley as less openly affectionate toward Melanie – always instead showing her as the initiator of physical contact. Quite honestly, neither of those takes on the love triangle worked for me. Was it better when I could see Ashley's love for Melanie while he claimed love for Scarlett (movie), or was it better when I was led to believe Ashley only feigned interest in his wife while he stoically pined for Scarlett (book)? I don’t know – the end result was the same: disgust for both characters.

My takeaway: Sometimes a movie, with its decisions of when to adhere to and when to deviate from a book’s realism or character development, can be more satisfying than the book. And I still hate Scarlett… and Ashley.

Duck Soup - Followed by Naptime

Duck Soup

Director: Leo McCarey

Hail, hail to Freedonia! Land of the brave and free! –crowd

Mister you no understand. Look, he’s a spy and I’m a spy, he work-a for me. I want him to find out-a something, but he no find out what I wanna find out. Now how am I gonna find out what I wanna find out if he no find out what I gotta find out? –Chicolini

           –Pinky

Gentleman, Chicolini here may talk like an idiot, and look like an idiot. But don’t let that fool you; he really is an idiot. –Rufus T. Firefly

The Netflix description of Duck Soup:

Thanks to the patronage of well-heeled widow Mrs. Teasdale, Rufus T. Firefly becomes a dictator of the tiny country of Freedonia. But when the ambassador of the bordering nation of Sylvania declares his love for Mrs. Teasdale, Firefly declares war. The Marx Brothers are at their sidesplitting best in this raucous political satire, in which Chico, Harpo and Zeppo co-star as spies and counterspies.

This was my first Marx Brothers movie. And it exhausted me. Their style of quick wit and quick bits left my head spinning as I tried to catch up again and again. I’m absolutely sure I missed some funny comment, a double meaning and a sidelong glance or two.

I don’t know anything about the Marx Brothers except that they’re funny. So I don’t know if the roles given to each of them are typical of their careers. I don’t even know if Harpo, who played Pinky in this film, is always mute in his appearances. I chose not to investigate them further until I’d experienced the movie. I feel like there is so much information available out there on anything and everything, that it’s sometimes nice to ignore it all and go in with a completely open mind. The over-inundation can be very distracting when trying to enjoy art for art’s sake.

This movie reminded me, at times, of any number of cartoons. The scene in particular where there are three characters dressing alike, all interacting with the same person but in very different styles, looked like it was pulled straight from an episode of Looney Tunes. Pinky dresses up like Rufus T. Firefly but remains silent; Chicolini dresses up like Rufus T. Firefly but speaks with an Italian accent; and Rufus T. Firefly appears in the scene as himself, not knowing that Pinky or Chicolini has been imitating him to Mrs. Teasdale just moments before.

This leaves Mrs. Teasdale thoroughly confused, as she is presented with each of these versions of Rufus T. Firefly, and tries to assimilate in her mind how the three versions fit together as one whole person, for of course she does not know or question that it is not the same person she keeps interacting with. This is something unlikely to happen in real life, as most people would be able to distinguish one person from another, no matter how similarly they are dressed. But of course, this movie is not exactly striving for realism.

Exhausting and unrealistic as this movie was, I had a great time watching it… rewinding sections… and re-watching for clarification. This post is short because I'm still trying to stop my head from spinning. Hail, hail to Freedonia!

My takeaway: In movies, as in life, wars of many scales can be waged, won, lost or ended by a woman. And when you can’t think of anything else to say, object!

Gone with the Wind - My Scarlett Rant

Gone with the Wind

Author: Margaret Mitchell

I love you, Scarlett. Because we are so much alike – renegades, both of us, dear. And selfish rascals. Neither of us cares a rat if the whole world goes to pot, so long as we’re safe and comfortable. –Rhett

God intended women to be timid, frightened creatures. And there’s something unnatural about a woman who isn’t afraid. Scarlett, always save something to fear, even as you save something to love. –Grandma Fontaine

Babies, babies, babies. Why did God make so many babies? But no, God didn't make them. Stupid people made them. – Scarlett O'Hara

And, you, Miss, are no lady. –Rhett

I'll start with the story's description, as found on Wikipedia [for such a renowned and widely-read book, it is hard to find a "description" of the book that sticks to the story's content and doesn't instead focus on the popularity of the book or the praise of its author:

The story is setin Clayton County, Georgia and Atlanta during the American Civil War and Reconstruction, and depicts the experiences of Scarlett O'Hara, the spoiled daughter of the well-to-do plantation owner, who must use every means at her disposal to come out of the poverty she finds herself in after Sherman's March to the Sea.

Never have I hated a protagonist as much as I hate Scarlett O’Hara. “Hate is a strong word,” you say? Then I’ve chosen correctly. Without fail, every time I felt her renewing herself with a thought or an action, she said or did or thought something to the contrary that just made me remember how strongly I hated her.

I chose the audio version of this book due to its length. And for a brief, fleeting moment, I thought perhaps it was the reader’s depiction of Scarlett’s voice or haughtiness that appalled me. But, it was not. The words, no matter whose voice read them, were the same.

I often found myself yelling at the recording as I drove to or from work, to or from a doctor’s appointment, to or from my parents’ house. I yelled at Scarlett; I yelled at Ashley; I yelled at Margaret Mitchell. I wanted to know how she could create such a horrible, horrible protagonist and such a god-awful supporting character (for I hate Ashley almost as much as I hate Scarlett, but more on him later).

Never have I read a character more selfish, manipulative, shallow and downright evil as Scarlett O'Hara. She does maybe two things in the whole book that do not somehow benefit her – and even those things, I’m sure, were done accidentally. Even at the end when she finally realizes how very much she loved, needed and depended on the dying Melanie, Scarlett’s thoughts scream out to God to know why he has done such a cruel thing to her, Scarlett, by taking away her friend. Not even on Melly’s deathbed does Scarlett allow the celestial spotlight to be removed from her head.

And then there’s Ashley. I tried to like him. I tried to appreciate the fact that he shunned Scarlett’s love in favor of his morals, as he was first an engaged, and then a married man. I yelled at Scarlett that he didn’t really love her and she needed to get over him and let him be. She was so convinced that he loved her and wanted her and would do anything for her, that he was silently suffering because of his upbringing and moral integrity. And I tried to tell her she was wrong.

And then came wood-splitting Scene where Ashley, irresistible to Scarlett’s charms and apparently finally giving in to his suppressed desires, takes her in his arms and kisses her and professes his love for her. And that’s when I lost all respect for Ashley and deemed him almost as wretched as Scarlett herself.

This book is always touted as one of the greatest love stories of all time. I’m not entirely sure if this supposed love affair is supposed to be between Scarlett and Ashley or Scarlett and Rhett or Melanie and Ashley. Each of these affairs ends in tragedy. But as far as I’m concerned, the only true love affair in this book is Scarlett’s love affair with herself.

My takeaway: Just as the saying goes, there are two sides to every story, and there are two sides to every war; the American Civil War is no different, in that the only point of view I remember being taught as a legitimate one was that of the Union – the winning side, and the side with which I’ve most associated with – which makes it hard to remember that the Confederates felt just as strongly about their own views, and saw the Union as ones in the wrong. And Scarlett is a bitch.