The Escapist

Happiness and the tragedy of the commons

The famed British philosopher and economist, Jeremy Bentham, in his book Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789) proposed an algorithm designed to help people weigh their actions by measure of the happiness provided, or the pain. This algorithm is known as felicific calculus.

Bentham was an utilitarian, a believer in the principle that actions should be geared towards engendering happiness or pleasure as opposed to actions that cause unhappiness or harm. More specifically, as he would argue in his work, the object of all legislation must be the ‘greatest happiness of the greatest number’.

Felicific calculus is premised on seven canons namely: intensity, duration, certainty, propinquity, fecundity, purity and extent. Whether an action’s effect is net positive or net negative derives from having placed them in the algorithm following which alternative actions are considered.

While this algorithm has long been debunked for many reasons some of which are apparent—such as the difficulty in measuring happiness for any one person and its impracticability—felicific calculus has become instructive in understanding human behaviour, with its applications seen in social settings.

A basic example. Consider a planned environment such as a university campus with paths properly mapped out, well-trimmed lawns adorning the landscape and signs in place to provide direction.

Suppose you are heading for a lecture. You are already behind on time so you try shortcuts. While other students are trudging on along the sidewalk, you decide to crisscross the lawn to save time and make it to class just before the lecturer arrives.

You are happy. You took a shortcut, despite the visible signs warning that you use the sidewalks instead. It was just you anyway, so no harm done—you think.

Per Bentham’s calculus, one is required to assess the extent of the act of going against the rules to achieve a desired goal and what bearing it would have if such an act is repeated. Does it ultimately bring happiness to all parties involved?

If we repeat that scenario, this time though with a whole class running late for a lecture and each student threading the lawn indiscriminately, what we see is that each person has been selfish about their short-term happiness without recourse to longer-term consequences.

The lawn gets degraded, loses its beauty and invariably its use as a shortcut due to being trampled upon incessantly.

The above scenario illustrates that at a micro level with just one or two persons involved, our actions may appear benign. Scaled to the macro level however, seemingly innocuous actions tend to have large-scale effects as more people get involved in a recursive process.

Herein lies the bedrock of an economic problem known as the tragedy of the commons, work for which Elinor Ostrom was awarded the Nobel Prize in Economics in 2009 (shared with Oliver Williamson), the first woman to win the prestigious prize in that category.

First brought into public knowledge in 1833 by British writer William Forster Lloyd, the term itself was first used by Garret Hardin in 1968. The tragedy of the commons describes a situation where individuals with access to a shared resource (called a common) act in their own interest and by so doing, deplete the resource.

For any common-pool resource to suffer from this problem, three criteria must be met. First is that the resource must be rivalrous, that is, its consumption by one consumer prevents simultaneous consumption by other consumers. Basically, if one person gets one unit of that good, others cannot get it.

The second is that it must be non-excludable. As its name implies, such a resource must be available to all and nigh impossible to exclude consumers from using which by economic definition is a public good.

The third is that it must be scarce. Economics defined simplistically is the science of scarcity; wants are unlimited while resources are scarce (limited).

That said, let us relay this problem using Lagos as our focal point. Take traffic congestion in this instance which Lagos is notorious for. A great number of vehicles ply Lagos roads daily.

A bus stop in Lagos. Credits: Dami Akinbode/UNSPLASH

Let us assume the first person to leave for work on Monday morning took their car to work sometime around 6AM. They had the option of boarding a public bus but they chose to use their car which provides more utility for them. They get to work just fine.

Two people do the same, no issue. Soon though, other workers with vehicles want to get to work in their own cars. Two become a hundred, then a thousand, then ten thousand. You get the picture. The traffic builds up with more people stuck on roads inhaling insalubrious fumes and putting the road under strain.

Meanwhile alternatives could have been either to use a public bus, or a different mode of transport such as the ferry.

Our road satisfies all three conditions required for the tragedy to be established. It is rivalrous in that when one person has their car on the road, no other person can occupy that spot. It is non-excludable in that you cannot tell people not to use the roads which is a public good. And lastly, it is scarce. If there were unlimited roads then we would not have traffic jams now would we?

If we think of happiness in terms of the big picture rather than opting for the often myopic instant gratification, many of the problems we face now would be avoided. The unending individual pursuit of happiness often comes at great cost to people as a collective and presents one of the great paradoxes of capitalism.

Think about the climate change crisis or the challenge with observing social distancing. In both cases, the actions of a few people result in severe outcomes for the majority.

Africa is the lowest emitter of greenhouse gases, yet it is the worst-hit by climate change, thanks to heavy emissions by industrialists in the West which represents yet another case study in negative externalities.

Similarly, the lack of observance of social distancing rules by some has had fatal consequences for many people.

While collective action is often suggested as a way to address this problem, the most efficient way I opine, is what mathematician, statistician and trader-cum-philosopher, Nassim Nicholas Taleb, describes as having ‘skin in the game’.

Taleb wrote a book by the same name which argues that for social justice to exist there must be symmetry and risk sharing. One should not make gains at the expense of risk to others. Forcing skin in the game, Taleb says, corrects this asymmetry better than thousands of laws and regulations.

If instant punishment follows quick gratification, more people would be averse to pursuing happiness at the cost of the many that play by the rules.

Although Bentham is long gone and his calculus not much applicable today, he was at least right in highlighting that in the quest for happiness one should take pause by considering the gravitas of its cost. I think that is a fair point, do you?