Character as Inverse Time Preference

It is useful to divide "virtuous behavior" into two categories: 1) actions which are motivated by conscience and 2) actions considered virtuous, but which are not motivated by conscience.  The first category concerns man's morality.  The second concerns man's character.  While moral behavior is impelled by urges which are, in a sense, selfless, "acts of character" are impelled urges that are selfish, only the "self" concerned is a "more future" self.  In other words, character is a matter of time preference.  Everyone has time preference; everyone places a premium on gratification sooner rather than later.  But the level of that "premium on promptitude" varies.  The lower that premium (in other words, the less "now-oriented" the person is), in general, the higher the "character" of the person is usually deemed.

To illustrate this, let's consider the "13 virtues" of Benjamin Franklin.

1. TEMPERANCE.

Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.

Let's say a man is at a work party.  He's had three drinks.  He knows a fourth drink will make him drunk.  He knows if he becomes drunk he will say and do things he will regret later.  He weighs two urges in his psyche: 1) an urge to feel the pleasure of being drunk in the near future and 2) the urge to avoid embarrassment in the distant future.  If his premium on promptitude is high enough, he will down the fourth glass.  If it's low enough, the thought of future embarrassment will steer him toward the ginger ale.

2. SILENCE.

Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.

Let's say two professional colleagues are having lunch together.  One has a juicy bit of idle gossip on the tip of her tongue.  She weighs the urge to unload her tale with the urge to be more productive with her time with her colleague; she could instead talk about the project they are working on.  The former action would be more pleasant in the short term.  But making headway on their project would advance her career, thereby paving the way for a great deal of pleasure in the long term.  If her premium on promptitude is high enough she will choose to indulge in the gossip.  If it's low enough, she will instead start discussing the project.

3. ORDER.

Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.

Let's say a man comes home after a long day at work.  He picks up his mail in the lobby of his apartment building, and then walks into his apartment.  He really wants to just crash on the couch and turn on the TV forthwith.  So he has the urge to just drop his mail on his big pile of unopened mail as he's been doing lately.  He knows by doing this every day, he's creating quite a chore for himself in the future when he will have to sort through the big pile.  If he just took a minute to sort through the mail in his hand now, he wouldn't be contributing to the huge chore he'll have to do later.  If his premium on promptitude is high enough, he'll just toss the mail and crash.  If it's low enough, he'll do the tiny chore now to avoid contributing toward having to do a giant chore later.

4. RESOLUTION.

Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.

Let's say a woman makes a New Year's Resolution to spend 15 minutes on her treadmill every morning.  Her alarm wakes her one morning.  Only if she gets out bed right then, will she have enough time to do her morning exercise.  But she's still groggy and would love a few more winks.  She weighs in her psyche the urge to sleep more now against the urge to contribute toward her long-term health.  If her premium on promptitude is high enough, she'll hit snooze.  If it's low enough, she'll drag herself out of bed.

5. FRUGALITY.

Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.

Let's say a woman shopping in a department store sees a really cute, but ridiculously expensive pair of shows.  Buying them will set her back a whole month in her longer-term goal of buying a new car.  If her premium on promptitude is high enough, she'll swipe her credit card and run home to try them on.  If it's low enough, she'll walk off in her New Balance sneakers eagerly awaiting the day she can drive of the lot in her new car, and pleased by the knowledge that that day will arrive a month sooner than if she had bought the shoes.

6. INDUSTRY.

Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.

Let's say a man at work needs to finish his TPS report.  But the task bores him, so he'd rather idle away the hours mindlessly clicking around on the web.  Diving into the TPS report will be burdensome in the short term, but will advance his career in the long term.  If his premium on promptitude is high enough, he'll commence surfing.  If it's low enough, he'll close Firefox, and fire up that awful database software.

7. SINCERITY.

Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.

Let's say a politician is considering embarking on a smear campaign, based on mischaracterization, against his opponent.  Part of the decision process involves time-indifferent moral considerations.  But another part weighs the short-term goal of winning the election against the longer-term goal of maintaining a reputation of decency.

8. JUSTICE.

Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.

Incidents of justice qua justice are time-indifferent, and as such are matters of morality and not character.  Let's say an adolescent is contemplating stealing candy from his baby nephew, and that there is no chance of him getting caught.  There is no long-term downside of stealing the candy aside from the pangs of guilt he might feel.

9. MODERATION.

Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.

Let's say a shopkeeper is tempted to shoot a shoplifter in the back for lifting a candy bar from his shelves.  In this case, there is a chance of him facing retribution for what others will consider a gross over-retaliation.  Insofar as that is the case, it is a matter character (inverse time preference).  It might feel good to shoot the punk in the short-term.  He weighs the urge against the long-term fear of rotting away in a prison cell.  Of course there a moral considerations as well.  His urge to shoot is also mitigated by his conscience screaming at him not to commit such a monstrous act.

10. CLEANLINESS.

Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths, or habitation.

Let's say a man is tired of thoroughly cleaning the carpet every time his dog pees on it.  He weighs the "sooner" urge to not have to deal with the mess now against the "later" urge of not having his pad smelling like an outhouse when he has guests over.

11.TRANQUILLITY.

Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.

A man gets cut off in his lane on the freeway.  He wants to lean on the horn, and speed past the offending motorist with a middle finger thrust out his window.  This would satisfy him in the short-term.  But if he instead counted to ten and let it slide, it might contribute to a better mood in the long-term.

12. CHASTITY.

Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation.

A married man is tempted to sleep with his co-worker.  Again time-indifferent morality plays a role ("it's just wrong"; "my wife doesn't deserve to be cheated on, etc."), but so does the conflict between "sex sooner" and "non-ruined marriage later".

13. HUMILITY.

Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

A woman is tempted to give vent to her pride by bragging about her luxurious vacation.  She weighs that short-term temptation against the long-term aversion against contributing toward a reputation as a boastful bore.

Character, it would seem, may be considered simply to be inverse time preference.

On Refinement and Self-Restraint

There's a monkey in the jungle
Watching a vapour trail
Caught up in the conflict
Between his brain and his tail
-Gorillaz


A most common conceit among philosophers is the idea that their motivations are fundamentally different from those of the common man.  They draw a sharp distinction between the refined pursuits of the mind or soul and the base pursuits of the body.  In Hesiod, the Muses, veritable embodiments of the soul's pursuits, denounce shepherds for being "mere bellies".  Plato and Aristotle characterized the common man as being driven by the passions of the belly and the sex organs, whereas the philosopher was driven by pure love of wisdom.  But to characterize the philosopher as having risen above the passions and to operate according to pure reason is incorrect.  As David Hume explained, operations of the will are always ultimately impelled by the passions.

It is obvious, that when we have the prospect of pain or pleasure from any object, we feel a consequent emotion of aversion or propensity, and are carryed to avoid or embrace what will give us this uneasines or satisfaction. It is also obvious, that this emotion rests not here, but making us cast our view on every side, comprehends whatever objects are connected with its original one by the relation of cause and effect. Here then reasoning takes place to discover this relation; and according as our reasoning varies, our actions receive a subsequent variation. But it is evident in this case that the impulse arises not from reason, but is only directed by it. It is from the prospect of pain or pleasure that the aversion or propensity arises towards any object: And these emotions extend themselves to the causes and effects of that object, as they are pointed out to us by reason and experience. It can never in the least concern us to know, that such objects are causes, and such others effects, if both the causes and effects be indifferent to us. Where the objects themselves do not affect us, their connexion can never give them any influence; and it is plain, that as reason is nothing but the discovery of this connexion, it cannot be by its means that the objects are able to affect us.

Reason, as Hume said, is always the slave of the passions.  The involuntary urges that impel a philosopher to philosophize are different from the urges of the hedonist; but they are involuntary urges, nonetheless.

Another category of man considered wholly distinct from those who are "slaves of the passions" is the man of self-restraint: the ant, as opposed to the grasshopper in Aesop's fable.  Yet even the man of self-restraint is a slave to his passions.  The only difference is often that he has a lower "time-preference".
Time preference is the premium given to a desired situation sooner rather than later.  For example, in terms of control over resources, it is the premium given to a good according to its availability sooner rather than later.  A person will generally prefer a given quantity of a good sooner over the same quantity of the same good later.  A person may also prefer a slightly smaller quantity of a good sooner over a slightly larger quantity of the same good later.  However, if the quantity of the good acquired sooner were continually diminished, eventually its "soon-ness"-based premium would not be sufficient to make up for its diminution, and the later, greater amount of the good would be preferred.  Somebody with extremely high time preference would rather eat one peanut immediately than wait one day to acquire a year's supply of peanuts.  Somebody with extremely low time preference would forego eating peanuts for a whole year if it meant at the end of the year he would achieve one more peanut than he otherwise would.

Having a low time preference is often thought of as a form of "self-restraint": an ability to resist one's urges.  However, all our actions are impelled by our urges: even actions whose goals are long-term.
Let us say you have the choice illustrated above of "one peanut now" vs. "a year's supply of peanuts in one day"  (If you don't like peanuts substitute some preservable food you do like).  You look at the peanut in front of you; it looks delicious.  You have an urge to reach out and pop it in your mouth.  But then you think about what it would be like after just one day of waiting to have all the free peanuts you want for a whole year.  That notion is so attractive, that you have an urge to forego the peanut in front of you to make that excellent situation possible.  The urge that impelled you to forego the peanut is more distant-future-based; but it is an urge nonetheless.

Keep in mind that all urges are future oriented: even the highest time-preference urges.  Popping the peanut in one's mouth forthwith may occur in the very near future, but it occurs in the future nonetheless.  All urges relate to a desired state for one's "future self".  Those acts that are commonly considered to demonstrate "self-restraint" are actually just as self-oriented as any other act.  They are simply oriented toward a more distant future self than those acts that are commonly considered to exhibit "lack of self-restraint".

How Ends Contend

I claim that the ultimate goals of humans are products of feeling and not reason.  However, Roderick Long, as a eudaimonist, claims that what the teleological philosopher usually thinks of as ultimate goals are really penultimate goals (although he doesn't use that term) which serve as means to the one ultimate end of "eudaimonia".  These penultimate goals, he contends, are chosen according to reason.  In his lecture Economics and Its Ethical Assumptions, Long writes...

Now according to this tradition, why do they say that we have just one ultimate end? Why not say that we have lots, that there are lots of things we want: ice cream, fame, not being killed? We've got all these different things, but why suppose that they're all constituents of some big super-end? Well, I think part of the reason they think this is: what happens when you make trade-offs? Suppose there are two ultimate ends you have: ice cream and fame. Those are two ultimate ends you have, and they come in degrees. (That's why I didn't use not being killed, because that's less a matter of degree.) So you want more ice cream, and you want more fame. And sometimes those go together, like winning an ice-cream-eating contest. But still there are lots of cases where these goals might conflict, and so you have to do trade-offs, and decide between them.

If you're deciding between them, that's an action. Actions have to have a means-end structure, right? So if you're trying to decide how to trade off between ice cream and fame, then doing that must be a means to some end. Well, what is the end? It can't be the end of maximizing the ice cream, because you haven't decided whether that's what you're going to do. It can't be the end of maximizing fame, because you haven't decided that. It can't be the end of getting the maximization of both, because it's a trade-off — that's impossible. Instead, you're trying to maximize something of which these two are parts, some general, overall satisfaction — that's what you're trying to maximize. You might wonder whether "maximize" is even the right word, but anyway you're trying to promote some good that includes both of these intrinsic good; these are intrinsic parts of your overall good. And it's that sort of thing that leads the eudaimonists to think that whenever you're acting, you're always promoting some ultimate good of yours, some ultimate end or aim.

Let's consider a fleshed-out hypothetical case of Long's ice cream/fame example.  Let's say a man is at a karaoke bar-and-grill with some friends and the place is packed.  He takes a number for a turn at singing.  Then, just as his number comes up, the waiter brings a giant banana split to his table.  His friends are bunch of pigs, so he knows that if he goes up and sings, the banana split will be gone by the time he gets back.  But if he doesn't take his turn now, he will miss his chance to sing.  Now, he loves banana splits, but he also loves performing (he's quite a good singer).  So he is torn between his desire for ice cream and his desire for performing.  Ice cream and fame are, strictly speaking, not his ends but means.  The physical ice cream is a means to the goal of the delicious taste sensation that occurs when he is eating it.  And the act of performing is a means to the goal of the exhilarating sensation he gets while performing.
Now the eudaimonist would say the goals of taste sensation and "stage exhilaration" are not ultimate ends, but intermediary means to a single end.  A Tolkien geek would say their ethical doctrine is, "one end to rule them all, and one end to bind them" (which is not to say that I myself am a Tolkien geek, just that that is what one would say. [*-)]  The eudaemonist would argue this must be true, because the man chose between the two goals, choosing implies a criterion, and a criterion implies a "higher" goal.  The eudaemonist calls this higher goal "overall well-being" or (of course) eudaemonia.

This would seem to run counter to the Humean contention that goals such as taste sensation and stage exhilaration are truly ends, and are therefore creatures of the passions.  And it might follow from the following propositions:

1. Such goals are means, and we choose between them.  Choice implies deliberation.  Therefore we deliberate over such goals.
2. Deliberation is entirely a process of reason.
3. Such goals, therefore, are products of reason.

First of all, I insist that such goals are not products of reason.  The veracity of #3 would not follow from the veracity of #1 and #2.  To say that we choose between the goals of flavor and exhilaration is not to say we choose to have those goals in the first place.  The statement, "I choose to desire X" makes no sense.  One chooses to act upon desire, but not to feel the desire in the first place.  Let us grant for a moment that goals like flavor and exhilaration are not ends, but penultimate goals which are but means to the ultimate goal of eudaemonia.  Even if that were so, such penultimate goals, along with eudeamonia itself, must be creatures of feeling, because the notion of choosing to desire something makes no sense.
For example, the man in the karaoke bar does choose between the banana split and singing.  But he can't be said to choose to desire the banana split in the first place.  When he sees the dish, his eyes widen; he begins to salivate; the image of himself eating the thing involuntarily manifests before his mind's eye.  Neither can he be said to choose to want to sing in the first place.  That too is simply a manifest urge that arises in response to the opportunity to sing.

So #3 above is certainly not true.  Now how about #1 and #2?  #1 is true; choice does imply deliberation.  But I contend that #2 is false;  deliberation is not entirely a process of reason.  Reason is the power of the mind to form judgments by process of logic.  But what kind of logic decides the matter when a man in the bar chooses between ice cream and fame?  It is not calculation; he doesn't count "utils" in his head.  It is not by deduction nor is it by induction that he finally decides.
This is not to say he doesn't think about it.  To work toward a decision, he may reflect upon eating ice cream and singing in order to get a more full picture of exactly what each will entail.  He thereby comes to a greater grasp upon exactly what it will be like to eat the ice cream and to perform on the stage.
To achieve this fuller picture and greater grasp, it is true that he may use reason.  For example, he might think, "That big party over there is leaving.  Therefore, if I sang, I would have a smaller audience than I thought."  Each of the contending urges he feels might then either increase or diminish in intensity in response to the new, fuller notions in his head regarding the two potential experiences.  

But ultimately, the only product of such a thinking process, after all the facts have been gathered in his head, can still only be two contending urges: one for ice cream and the other for fame.  And these urges are unanalyzable givens; they are not susceptible to ratiocination.  For a time, the man suspends both urges in his psyche.  At the point of action, he will either be impelled by one urge or the other.  We say then that the action-impelling urge is, by definition, the stronger of the two.

The use of reason can be impelled by feeling.  And the conclusions reached by reason can have impacts upon feeling.  But final decisions between contending goals are always directly impelled by feeling, and it is not a matter of ratiocination regarding the maximization of some mysterious single ultimate end.

Action, Goals, and Goods

(This post is an attempt to formulate praxeological fundamentals according to how they make sense to me.)


An action is an embarkation of a behavior for the achievement of a goal¹ which executes a deliberate choice² among potential behaviors.  A goal is a possible future situation that is perceived as better than what is anticipated to occur absent said behavior.³  An action always has an ultimate goal.  Its direct goal may also be its ultimate goal.  However, its direct goal may instead be a mediate goal which itself is aimed at only for the sake of the its ultimate goal.
 
An agent, according to my definition of the word, can only choose one behavior at a time (if a being could choose multiple behaviors simultaneously, it would be a being comprised of multiple agents).  Potential behaviors are chosen according to their value in the achievement of those ultimate goals.  This value is determined by a subjective judgment of the balance among:

I. the relative urgency of the behaviors' respective ultimate goals and

II.A. the behavior's perceived benefits (with regard to goals) of various anticipated (1) magnitudes and (2) likelihoods and its

II.B. perceived detriments, or costs, (with regard to goals) of various anticipated (1) magnitudes and (2) likelihoods.

All five variable categories above influence an agent's ascertainment of a behavior's value.⁴
Some mediate goals are situations in which certain resources are under one's control.  Such resources are goods.  Thus, some actions are endeavors to gain control over goods.  When the control of a good is desired for the sake of directly achieving an ultimate goal, it is a consumption good.  When the control of a good is desired for the sake of directly achieving a mediate goal, it is a production good.  The use of production goods achieve mediate goals which are situations which include the production of other production goods or of consumption goods.  Control over any good is desired solely for the sake of the ultimate goal it will hopefully lead to.

An act can also be considered an exchange, because it is a renunciation of the second-best situation that would have been the anticipated result of the second-best action deliberated over in exchange for the best situation that is the anticipated result of the action chosen.  Some situations exchanged in this manner involve the control of goods.  An agent may give up an anticipated situation in which he has control over one good in exchange for an anticipated situation in which he has control over another.  When such an exchange is made, it is a demonstration that the chosen behavior's value in achieving the agent's ultimate goals is considered better than the renounced behavior's value in the achievement of ultimate goals.⁵

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¹Here I differ from the Mengerian/Misesian approach. Menger characterized goods as means to the satisfaction of needs.  Mises modified this to characterize all action as an attempt to "remove or at least to alleviate the felt uneasiness".  I choose to simply refer to goals in order to include action in which no impact upon the feelings is intended.  For example, a soldier who throws himself upon a grenade does not expect to alleviate felt uneasiness.  The goal of his action (saving his comrades) will occur after his own demise, when he will be unable to feel any satisfaction or alleviation.

²This behavior can either be "doing something" or "intentionally not doing something".  When you first consider taking a walk, then choose to, and then actually begin to, that beginning, impelled by the choosing, is the action.  Continuing to walk is only an action if at any point it even crosses your mind whether to stop or continue.  If your phone rings, and the choice of stopping or continuing your walk doesn't even cross your mind, and only whether or not to answer the call crosses your mind, then answering the phone is the only action at hand

³In Man, Economy, and State, Murray N. Rothbard wrote:

All action is an attempt to exchange a less satisfactory state of affairs for a more satisfactory one. The actor finds himself (or expects to find himself) in a nonperfect state, and, by attempting to attain his most urgently desired ends, expects to be in a better state.

This is, strictly speaking, incorrect.  A man never holds onto any state of affairs.  Time is always passing, and conditions are ever changing.  If nothing else, the man ages in time, and therefore is always moving from one state of affairs to another.  A man, when he acts, therefore does not attempt to exchange a present state for a future one.  Rather, he attempts to exchange a less satisfactory future state for a more satisfactory future state.  The more satisfactory future state might very well be less satsifactory than his present state.  For example he may be unavoidably poorer or sicker than before; he will, if nothing else, be older.  But that is of no importance to his choice of action.  What matters if will be better off than he otherwise would be.

⁴In Man, Economy, and State, Murray Rothbard wrote:

In order to institute action, it is not sufficient that the individual man have unachieved ends that he would like to fulfill. He must also expect that certain modes of behavior will enable him to attain his ends.

However, what about the man at the roullette table who puts all his chips on one number? Does he really expect to achieve his end of becoming dramatically more wealthy from the next spin? Not necessarily; at least not according to the common definition of "expect", which is to regard something as likely to happen. Gamblers who make such bets often know very well that it is not likely that they will win. They do it anyway, because to them, the size of the pot makes it "worth a go". Is placing such a bet not an "action" since they can't be said to regard themselves as likely to win? No. It is still purposeful behavior: it is still an action. The purpose is still to win the pot, even if the likelihood is poor.
A man who acts does not necessarily expect his behavior to enable him to attain his ends. But he does necessarily deem it a worthy venture.  The worthiness of the venture (or the value of the behavior) is determined by the five criteria I outline above.

⁵Again, I differ here with classic Austrianism, because I believe agents, strictly speaking, always choose among behaviors and not goods.