Nudge

Well, even before I get onto the subject matter, this book is remarkable for two reasons: firstly, it’s not even tangentially Victorian; secondly, I borrowed it from a library.  Yes, you heard correctly.  Although the subtitle to Nudge is “Improving decisions about health, wealth and happiness,” it mercifully isn’t a self-help book.  Rather, the authors are expounding their theory of libertarian paternalism and explaining how it could be adopted by governments and other organisations in order to improve the lives of we humble citizens.  The idea of the “nudge” is that it helps us carry out the decision we’ve already taken for ourselves.  For example, many people resolve to lose weight every year, but fall by the wayside when presented with a tempting bun in the staff canteen after a hard morning updating their Facebook page.  In such situations many would favour the short-term benefit of cakey loveliness over the long-term benefit of being healthier.  An appropriate nudge would be for the healthier options to be given prominence and even perhaps subsidised.  Examples are cited of schools that have seen a 25% increase in pupils opting for more balanced meals.  However, such changes aren’t a simple matter of hiding the Hobnobs.  Junk food is much easier and cheaper to provide, and there are many companies with vested interests who will lobby in favour of “greater choice”.

In fact, offering fewer choices is one of the suggestions outlined by the authors.  It’s a rather paradoxical approach, but can actually help people make better decisions, especially in matters with which they are unfamiliar.  Most of us are fairly adept at transactions we carry out on a regular basis, such as buying food or petrol, but it becomes more complicated when we have to deal with taking out a mortgage, which most homeowners will only do a few times during their lives.  The bewildering array of choices means that already harrassed people end up plumping for the least suitable product simply because it’s expedient, rather than as the result of an informed choice.   By the time they move house again or remortgage, they’ve lost the temporary knowledge they gained from the previous experience.  Of course, financial institutions use the obfuscation of “consumer choice” to their advantage: no-one actually wants to sign up for a loan that will require the sale of a kidney should they have the temerity to pay it off early.

Unsurprisingly, most of the examples in the book are American.  One notable exception is the National Pension Savings Scheme (NPSS).  Due to be introduced in 2012, it will automatically enrol all UK workers without a pension into a scheme whereby they pay 4% of their salary and their employer contributes 3%.  This nudge is based on the fact that many people realise they *should* be investing in a pension, but never get around to it, either due to inertia or other financial priorities.  Before you start thinking this is more of an edict than a nudge, workers are perfectly at liberty to opt out at any point.  The Government is literally banking on the fact that although many will be outraged, they won’t actually convert their anger into action.  Let’s just hope the funds are invested wisely and there’s something actually worth having when participants reach retirement age.  The architects of the scheme will, of course, be topping up their final salary pensions with remunerative after dinner speeches.

One notable area where nudging is necessary and universally applicable is the environment.  The majority of people think the destruction of the planet is a Bad Thing.  The exception are Daily Mail readers, who are enjoying the warmer weather and think only asylum seekers use carrier bags excessively.  Getting people to change their behaviour, however, is another matter.  The book outlines various proposals, many of which involve our actions being immediately apparent to others, for example a carbon footprint badge, or our Facebook status automatically showing how many units of electricity we’ve consumed that day.  There is also the marvellous idea of everyone having an AlGoreRhythm to indicate their environmental responsibility.  Research has shown that people are more likely to behave better if they think everyone else is being a model citizen.  A note through the door to politely explain that 87% of your neighbours are managing to separate bottles and newspapers is far more effective than the threat of a £75 fine and a night in the village stocks.  A topical UK example would be the Government’s decision to withdraw conventional lightbulbs from sale, thereby forcing everyone to use the sort that come on 5 minutes after you’ve flicked the switch.  As a well-meaning Guardian reader, I have no problem with energy saving bulbs and have used them for many years, but removing the choice just gets people in a froth and it becomes a matter of individual freedom, rather than conserving finite resources.  Why not subsidise more efficient bulbs instead?  As the authors argue: “If the problem of climate change is to be seriously addressed, the climate strategy will be based on incentives, not on command-and-control.”

Although much of the book had me nodding in agreement, I was rather perplexed by the somewhat incongruous chapter on marriage.  I can imagine only that the authors were using their fifteen minutes of fame to express their views on this subject.  They argue that marriage should be privatised, with the state recognising only civil unions, and other bodies, such as religious groups, able to offer their own types of marriage with what ever contraints they see fit, eg prohibiting divorce or same-sex partnerships.  Although I wouldn’t disagree with their contention that marriage is a complex matter, it has become so because it is a state which people enter for many different reasons.  Rather than proposing a radical upheaval, I feel they should have offered some nuptial nudges that would make the married state a more harmonious one, or at least render divorce less ghastly.  One idea that springs to mind is making pre-nuptial agreements mandatory.  Brides and grooms are often reluctant to discuss money before the big day, but it then becomes a bitterly contested area when things go wrong.  Although many people think it’s a good idea, they wouldn’t want to rock the boat by being the one to suggest it.   I’m sure Paul McCartney would agree.

Another similarly emotive issue is that of organ donation.  The book discusses how countries running an opt-out scheme (unsurprisingly) have a much higher rate of organ donation, and are therefore able to save more lives.  Anyone who doesn’t wish to donate their organs simply has to express their wish accordingly.  Although many people in the UK carry donor cards, their wishes are often overruled by relatives.  Just for the record, you can take what you want from me, just so long as I’m dead first.  I hope Mr Paxman has made a similar stipuation.  Being a Victorian Geek, I ought to tell readers that the Anatomy Act of 1832 has yet to be repealed.  Under its terms, the Government owns the cadavers of anyone who is dependent upon the state.  Given we’re currently going to hell in a handcart, that could be most of us by the end of the decade.

Many of the nudges discussed involve major schemes that would be difficult to implement. Although eminently sensible, they would require a possibly unachievable level of consensus and political courage.  Unfortunately, the current Government is all stick and no carrot, and few would trust them to act in our best interests.  We can, however, use tiny nudges in our own everyday lives.  When suffering severe mobility problems following back surgery it was entirely normal for people not to offer me their seat on public transport, even though I was using a walking stick and wearing a nasty-looking caliper.  However, if I felt sufficiently brave to ask someone to help, they would be delighted to do so.  I just needed to make it easier for them to make the right decision.  I was once gingerly trying to cross a busy road when a woman tapped me on the elbow.  I thought she was going to help me across, but she was actually pointing out that I had my the back of my skirt completely tucked in my knickers.  That was a useful physical nudge to prevent me from frightening small children.  As to whether libertarian paternalism can work on a larger scale, though, that remains to be seen.