Suppose that two
chipmunks, Alvin and Theodore, are chasing each other. Neither is catching up
on the other, and neither is aware of being chased. Alvin is chasing Theodore gleefully
and athletically but not skillfully, just for the joy of chasing. Theodore is
chasing Alvin gleelessly and unathletically but skillfully, in order to bring
him home. Suppose further that this was the only time that either chipmunk
chased the other. An utterance u1 of
sentence (1) can be a true report of (some of) what happened, while an utterance u2 of sentence (2) is also true in the same context C.
(1) Alvin chased Theodore gleefully and
athletically but not skillfully.
(2) Theodore chased Alvin gleelessly and
unathletically but skillfully.
By itself, that’s not puzzling. Any scenario can be described
in many ways. But consider the following hypothesis: u1 is true if and only if the Davidsonian logical form (1a) is true
relative to C; and u2 is true if and
only if (2a) is true relative to C, with '$' as an existential quantifier.
(1a) $e[Chased(e, Alvin, Theodore) &
Gleeful(e) & Athletic(e) & ~Skillful(e)]
(2a) $e[Chased(e, Theodore, Alvin) &
Gleeless(e) & Unathletic(e) & Skillful(e)]
Given this
hypothesis, it follows that there were two
chases, occupying the same region of spacetime: a gleeful, athletic, but not
skillful chase of Theodore by Alvin; and a gleeless, unathletic, but skillful
chase of Alvin by Theodore. That’s not a logical contradiction. But two chases,
with the same participants, in the same place at the same time? Yuck. This
suggests that (1a) and (2a) do not correctly specify truth conditions for (1)
and (2).
So
much the worse, one might say, for the idea that (1a) and (2a) reflect the
logical forms of (1) and (2). Alternatively, one might say that (1a) and (2a)
do reflect the logical forms of (1) and (2), and so much the worse for the idea
that a Human Language sentence S has the truth condition of an invented
sentence that reflects the logical form of S. In thinking about the options
here, I’ve found it useful to bear in mind that humans are subject to framing effects
of the sort that Kahneman and Tversky made famous. Kahneman’s recent book, Thinking Fast and Slow, is a great
overview; and in it, he discusses a beautiful example that Thomas Schelling (University
of Maryland Nobel Laureate) used in his classes, presumably without chipmunks
in mind.
Schelling
asked his students to think about the policy of reducing taxes for those who
have (dependent) children. Suppose your income tax depends entirely on your (household)
income and how many children you have. For each income i and number c of
children, there is a tax t: Tax(i, c)
= t. The “child deduction” might be flat,
say a thousand dollars per child. That is, each income can be paired with a
“base” tax, from which some multiple of 1000 is subtracted: Tax(i, c)
= Base(i) – [c • 1000]. Alternatively, one might adopt a system in which the deduction
for each child depends on household income: Tax(i, c) = Base(i) – [c • Deduction(i)]. Given
these options, there are many policy questions. But consider (3), which seems relatively
easy.
(3) Should the child deduction
be larger for the rich than for the poor?
At least for many
of us, it seems unfair to adopt the “graduated deduction” policy, and then make
the deduction per child larger for
those who already have larger incomes. Hold that thought.
By
thinking in terms of deductions, we
effectively take the “standard household” to be childless. The base tax is what
a childless household pays. But we could instead assume two children per
household, start with a lower base tax for all incomes, and impose a surcharge
on households with fewer than two children (e.g., $1000 for each child less
than two): Tax(i, c) = Base*(i) + [(2 – c) • 1000];
where for each income i, Base*(i) = Base(i) – 2000. We could also let the surcharge depend on income: Tax(i,
c) = Base*(i) + [(2 – c) •
Surcharge(i)]. For simplicity, assume
that no household has more than two children. But it doesn’t matter if there is
also a tax deduction for each child
beyond the second, or if we take the “standard household” to have ten children,
reducing the base tax and imposing surcharges accordingly.
Again,
this presents various questions. But consider (4), which might also seem easy.
(4)
Should the childless poor pay as large
a surcharge as the childless rich?
Given a system that
penalizes childlessness, with higher taxes for each income, it seems unfair to
make the poor pay as large a penalty as the rich. A childless poor household would sacrifice a greater percentage of income,
for being childless, than a childless rich household. One wants to say that any
such surcharge should be graduated, with the childless poor paying a smaller surcharge.
But if you answered both (3) and (4) negatively, then you endorsed a
contradiction.
As Kahneman puts the point, for any given income, the difference between the tax owed by a
two-child family and by a childless family can be described as a reduction
or as an increase. And if poor households
are to receive at least the same benefit as the rich for having
children, then poor households must pay at least the same penalty as the
rich for being childless. In the abstract, this seems obvious. Still, it can be
remarkably hard to shake the sense that both (3) and (4) deserve negative
answers. I had to stare, for a long time, at a reductio of (5).
(5) ~[Deduction(ihigh)
> Deduction(ilow)] &
[Surcharge(ilow) < Surcharge(ihigh)]
[Surcharge(ilow) < Surcharge(ihigh)]
For each income, high or low, the
deduction has to be the same as the surcharge. One family’s deduction is
another family’s surcharge. So (6) and (7) are obviously true.
(6) Deduction(ihigh) = Surcharge(ihigh)
(7) Deduction(ilow) = Surcharge(ilow)
Given (6), the second conjunct of (5) implies (8), which
might seem fine by itself.
(8) Surcharge(ilow) < Deduction(ihigh)
But (8) and (7) imply (9), which is incompatible with the
first conjunct of (5).
(9) Deduction(ilow) < Deduction(ihigh)
The inferences are uncomplicated: if a < b, and c = b,
then a
< c;
if a
< b,
and c = a,
then c < b.
And yet, our—or least my—gut responses to (3) and (4) remain. Quite humbling.
At this point, one might conclude that we must answer (4) affirmatively, like
it or not. But it still seems
that (10) should be answered negatively.
(10)
Should there be a flat tax on
childlessness?
One might just
eliminate the child deduction. But with the current flat deduction, poor
households with children get more relief (as a percentage of income) than rich households
with children. That raises question (11), which leaves me feeling thoroughly muddled.
(11) Should we eliminate a tax break for poor
families with children?
Kahneman
draws a dramatic and disturbing conclusion.
The message about the nature of
framing is stark: framing should not be viewed as an intervention that masks or
distorts an underlying preference. At least in this instance...there is no
underlying preference that is masked or distorted by the frame. Our preferences
are about framed problems, and our moral
intuitions are about descriptions, not substance.
I take no stand on whether things are this bad with regard to the moral/political. (Though if we get
muddled when describing two animals, each targeting the other...) Qua village
semanticist, I just think that in thinking about reports concerning “what
happened” in a situation, we need to
remember that humans are subject to (deep) framing effects. Maybe it isn’t so
obvious that a Human Language sentence S has the truth condition of an invented
sentence that reflects the logical form of S. Maybe matters are significantly
more complicated than the semantics textbooks suggest, given the humble Agent/Patient
asymmetry . (Stay tuned for Part Two.)
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