Webdiary - Independent, Ethical, Accountable and Transparent
header_02 home about login header_06
header_07
search_bar_left
date_box_left
date_box_right.jpg
search_bar_right
sidebar-top content-top

Capitalism's Moral Bastards

Paul J. ZakPaul J. Zak, a fellow at the Gruter Institute and director of Claremont Graduate University's Center for Neuroeconomics Studies, is editor of Moral Markets: The Critical Role of Values in the Economy.

by Paul J. Zak

Recent revelations that many corporate executives have backdated their stock options, ensuring excessive compensation even when their companies perform poorly, are merely the latest in a stream of examples of bad business behavior. In an era of evaporated pensions and benefits for the rank and file, piggish pay packets for CEO’s have led a cynical public to wonder where big business has gone wrong.

The answer may be quite simple: too many bosses have abandoned basic human values and embraced the credo famously uttered by Gordon Gekko in the movie Wall Street: "Greed is good."

But a growing body of research concludes that greed is not always good, and that moral values are a necessary element in the conduct of business. The Gordon Gekkos are predators who take the quick payoff. Although they do serve a useful purpose by keeping other players on their toes and raising efficiency through competition, market participants for the most part avoid them, preferring to do business with the Warren Buffetts – hard-driving businessmen, but known for fair play and creating long-term value.

Consider the trip to the mall, where shoppers buy goods produced and shipped from around the world. This decentralized delivery of goods relies on employees working for two weeks before receiving a paycheck, companies offering each other lines of credit, and banks offering bridge loans. Even though humans have engaged in exchange since before the birth of civilization, the impersonal system of trading is only around 1,000 years old. While legal remedies exist should this system break down, impersonal trading cannot occur unless most people share the values of fair play and reciprocal cooperation.

Even in impersonal market exchange, we cannot help but personalize transactions, say, with the grocery store cashier who smiles and thanks us, or the store greeter whose only purpose is to make us feel cared for. This personalization draws upon regions of the brain that evolved when our trading partners were members of small kin-based groups where moral violations were immediately identified and remedied.

Research by primatologists Sarah Brosnan and Frans de Waal at Emory University has shown that monkeys also have what look like moral values. When two monkeys work for food, a fair split is expected. If a fair division is not received, it elicits cries of outrage and hurled food by the wronged partner.

Moral values have powerful physiological representations in humans, too, and we feel them strongly when they are violated. The philosopher Josh Greene and his colleagues at Princeton University have shown that personal moral dilemmas (for example, whether you would directly kill one person to save seven others) use our emotions rather than higher cognition – to the chagrin of many philosophers who claimed otherwise. The personal aspect of such decisions makes our hearts speed up and our palms sweat.

In neuroeconomics experiments that my lab has conducted, we have found that when a stranger places trust in another by making a considered monetary investment that can either be returned or stolen, our brains release an ancient mammalian hormone called oxytocin. Oxytocin is what bonds mammals to their offspring, and in humans makes spouses care about and love each other. We have found that trust causes a spike in oxytocin and begets reciprocation – the sharing of money. We are "wired" to cooperate, and we find it rewarding in the same way that our brains identify eating a good meal or sex as rewarding.

Oxytocin is active in evolutionarily old areas of our brain, outside of our conscious awareness. We simply have a sense that sharing with someone who has trusted us is the right thing to do.

We have also found that about 2% of undergraduates we studied are pure non-cooperators. When they have an opportunity to share money with a stranger who has trusted him or her, non-cooperators keep all the money rather than share the largess. The technical term in my lab for these people is "bastards."

Our evidence suggests that bastards’ brains work differently. Their character traits are similar to those of sociopaths. They simply do not care about others the way most people do, and the dysfunctional processing of oxytocin in their brains appears to be one reason for this. Because bastards are out there, we still need government and personal enforcement of economic exchange.

Nevertheless, too much government regulation may "crowd out" moral behavior. When every offense has an associated penalty, transgressions cease to be moral violations, but are simply a way for wrongdoers to effectively "use the system" while facing some risk of getting caught and paying a fine.

These external penalties can displace the internal sanctions we feel when we do wrong. At Enron, this was accomplished by breaking down tasks into small chunks so that no one person was ultimately responsible for a decision and could claim ignorance when caught. Former Enron chief executive Jeffrey K. Skilling excused his behavior at his trial by saying, "I’m not an accountant."

Many people have been convinced that market exchange diminishes our humanity. Think of Charlie Chaplin’s film Modern Times, in which the little tramp is literally a cog in the capitalist machine. That view, a residue of Marxist thinking, is wrong. On the contrary, working together, and trading with each other in markets, is morality in action.

Copyright: Project Syndicate, 2006.
www.project-syndicate.org

left
right
spacer

Comment viewing options

Select your preferred way to display the comments and click "Save settings" to activate your changes.

Oxytocin?

Oxytocin in our brains? The stuff has other functions as well. It is what I give a cow a shot of after a difficult birth. It helps her expel the after birth which she then eats. Maybe a shot or two in the rear end would help the bastards expel their greed and they would hopefully choke as they dined out on their loss.

wonderful life under Howard

Michael de Angelos, life under a Howard government has been pretty wonderful for most Australians. That's why they keep re-electing him.

Four Prominent Bastards

Four Prominent Bastards
(Ogden Nash)

I'm an autocratic figure in these democratic states
A dandy demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the baker make the most delicious breads
And the sons of Casanova fill the most exclusive beds,
And the Barrymores and Roosevelts and others I could name
Inherited the features that perpetuate their fame,
My position in the structure of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
Now, my father was a gentleman, and musical, to boot;
He used to play piano in a house of ill repute.
My mother was the madam, and a credit to her cult
She liked my daddy's playing, and I was the result.
So my mammy and my daddy are the ones I've got to thank,
I'm the chairman of the board of the National City Bank.

cho: Our parents forgot to get married
     Our parents forgot to get wed;
     Did a wedding bell chime, that was always a time
     They were somewhere off in bed.
     So it's thanks to our kind-hearted parents
     We're kings in this land of the free
     The banker, the broker, the Washington joker
     Three prominent bastards are we.

In a cozy little cottage, in a cozy little dell
A dear old-fashioned farmer and his daughter used to dwell.
She was pretty, she was charming, she was tender, she was mild
And her sympathies were such that she was frequently with child.
The year her hospitality attained a record high
She found herself the mother of an infant, which was I.
And whenever she was gloomy I could always make her grin
By childishly inquiring who my daddy might have been.
Now the hired man was favored by the gals of mammy's set
And the traveling man from Scranton was an even-money bet,
But such were mammy motives, and such was her allure
That even Roger Babson wasn't altogether sure.
So I took my mammy's morals and I took my daddy's crust
And I grew to be the founder of a big investment trust.

On a dusty southern chain-gang, on a dusty southern road
My late-lamented pappy made his permanent abode,
Now while some was there for stealing, my pappy's only fault
Was an overwhelming weakness for criminal assault.
His philosophy was simple, and free of moral tape,
"Seduction is for sissies; a he-man wants his rape!"
Pappy's total list of victims was embarrassingly rich
And though one of them was mammy, still he could not tell me which.
Well I never went to college, but I got me a degree,
I guess I am the model of a perfect S.O.B,
I'm a debit to my country, but a credit to my dad,
The most expensive senator this country ever had.
I remember pappy's telling me, "Boy, rapin' is a crime
Unless you rape the voters, a million at a time."

I'm an ordinary figure in these democratic states,
A pathetic demonstration of hereditary traits.
As the children of the cops possess the flattest kind of feet
And the daughter of the floozie has a waggle to seat,
My position in the basement of society I owe
To the qualities my parents bequeathed me long ago.
Now, my father was a married man, and what is even more
He was married to my mother, a fact that I deplore
I was born in holy wedlock, consequently bye and bye
I got rooked by every bastard with plunder in his eye.
I invested, I deposited, I voted every fall
Did I ever get a penny saved, those bastards took it all.
Well, at last I've learned my lesson, and I'm on the proper track
I'm a self-appointed bastard, and I'm gonna get it back.

final cho:
     Our parents forgot to get married
     Our parents forgot to get wed;
     Did a wedding bell chime, that was always a time
     They were somewhere off in bed.
     So it's thanks to our kind-hearted parents
     We're kings in this land of the free
     The banker, the broker, the Washington joker
     Three prominent bastards --- and me,
     The banker, the broker, the joker and me
     Four prominent bastards are we.

This was, the story goes, written for a Gridiron Club dinner ca. 1941, and was broadcast on Armed Service Radio by mistake. It's been published as "A Ballad to be Sung By Four Prominent Love Children"

Fascinating stuff.

Did they do their research here? Life under a Howard government for the last ten years should be required study for any researcher.

Comment viewing options

Select your preferred way to display the comments and click "Save settings" to activate your changes.
© 2005-2011, Webdiary Pty Ltd
Disclaimer: This site is home to many debates, and the views expressed on this site are not necessarily those of the site editors.
Contributors submit comments on their own responsibility: if you believe that a comment is incorrect or offensive in any way,
please submit a comment to that effect and we will make corrections or deletions as necessary.
Margo Kingston Photo © Elaine Campaner

Recent Comments

David Roffey: {whimper} in Not with a bang ... 12 weeks 5 days ago
Jenny Hume: So long mate in Not with a bang ... 12 weeks 6 days ago
Fiona Reynolds: Reds (under beds?) in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 1 day ago
Justin Obodie: Why not, with a bang? in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 1 day ago
Fiona Reynolds: Dear Albatross in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 1 day ago
Michael Talbot-Wilson: Good luck in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 1 day ago
Fiona Reynolds: Goodnight and good luck in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 2 days ago
Margo Kingston: bye, babe in Not with a bang ... 13 weeks 6 days ago