Freakonomics Radio - 271. The Men Who Started a Thinking Revolution

Episode Date: January 5, 2017

Starting in the late 1960s, the Israeli psychologists Amos Tversky and Danny Kahneman began to redefine how the human mind actually works. Michael Lewis's new book The Undoing Project explains how the movement they started -- now known as behavioral economics -- has had such a profound effect on academia, governments, and society at large.

Hey there. Our latest episode will start in just a minute. But first, a quick update on my new podcast, a game show called Tell Me Something I Don't Know. We tape it in front of a live audience, and we've just announced a batch of new taping dates in New York City, Boston, and Washington, D.C. So on January 25th, 26th, and 27th, we'll be at Symphony Space in New York City. On March 6th and 7th, we'll be at 6th and I in Washington, D.C. And on March 14th, 15th, and 16th, we'll be at the Wilbur Theater in Boston. So please come to the show to get tickets. Or if you want to be a contestant, just go to TMSIDK.com. That's TMSIDK, as in tell me something I don't know.

If you haven't heard the show yet, check it out on iTunes or wherever you get your podcasts. It's already got more than 3 million listens, so what are you waiting for? Our first six episodes are already up, and lots more will be coming soon. Now, on to Freakonomics Radio. There aren't many people in the world who write excellent books that also get turned into excellent films. Among them is this guy. My name is Michael Lewis, and I just think of myself as a writer. What makes Michael Lewis's rare feat even rarer is that his books wouldn't seem at all conducive to the Hollywood treatment. Books like Moneyball. Which was about the way the Oakland A's managed to function on a shoestring budget in Major League Baseball. And the book was,

in my mind, really about the way the market for baseball players misvalued those players. The then experts in baseball, scouts, would make big mistakes in deciding who was a good player and who wasn't a good player. And the A's were exploiting this by using statistical analysis. The problem we're trying to solve is that there are rich teams and there are poor teams. Then there's 50 feet of crap. And then there's us. Or an even more unlikely book to be turned into a film, The Big Short, Lewis's book about how a housing bubble turned into a financial disaster. With something called a credit default swap, it's like insurance on the bond. And if it goes bust, you can make 10 to 1, even 20 to 1 return. I was astonished that anybody bothered to make Moneyball, much less the big short.

And so my experience with the movie business is peculiar because what seems to happen is I write books that are ever harder to turn into movies and they work ever harder to make them into movies. His latest book may pose the biggest challenge yet. It is called The Undoing Project and it's about a pair of academics in a room alone for a few decades writing papers. They're a pair of Israeli psychologists named

Amos Tversky and Danny Kahneman. And one of their great discoveries is that people don't make clean, clear choices between things. They make choices between descriptions of things. No car chases, no doomsday scenarios, but it may still be movie material. For what Kahneman and Tversky did was nothing less than redefine how we humans think. Is that dramatic enough for you. From WNYC studios, this is Freakonomics Radio, the podcast that explores the hidden side of everything. Here's your host, Stephen Dubner. So, as a fellow writer, I want to ask you this. Reading your work is so pleasurable and easy, and I don't mean that at all as a pejorative.

I love the way you use language and words to talk about ideas. It's an incredibly rare ability. But because it's so pleasurable and easy to read, one might assume that the writing of these books is easy and perhaps pleasurable. Are you, Michael, any less tortured than the average writer? Yes, it is pleasurable and easy. I hate to ruin your punchline, but actually what's hard for me is figuring out in the beginning what I want to say. I spend a lot of time gathering material and organizing the material before I sit down to write. I mean, it's fun and hard, but if it's hard, it's hard in a fun way. And people who have, like my wife, who has walked in on me while I'm writing, I write with

headphones on that just plays on a loop, the same playlist that I've built for whatever book I'm writing. And I cease to hear anything in the world outside what I'm doing. And apparently I'm sitting there laughing the whole time. And so I think basically what I'm doing. And apparently I'm sitting there laughing the whole time. And so I think basically what I'm doing is laughing at my own jokes. But I wasn't even aware of that. But people, my kids and my wife say that you're sitting at the desk laughing all the time. What's on your playlist? What kind of stuff? Is it pop songs with lyrics or does it have to be more kind of background stuff? It's pop songs with lyrics, but I cease to hear it. So the playlist for The Undoing Project include two versions of Jessie Girl,

the Rick Springfield song. It's a Meghan Trainor, you know, Adele's new, some of Adele's new album, a Cat Stevens song. It's a Jim Croce song. And they just, you know, it's kind of a random assortment of stuff. What it all has in common is it kind of gets me up and after I've listened to it a few times while writing, I have this Pavlovian response to it.

So if you played like a Meghan Trainor song right now. You just start typing. Yeah, I grab it, I look for a keyboard. That's exactly right. So it actually kind of just, it's a very odd kind of conditioning mechanism for me. The Undoing Project began to germinate more than a decade ago. Lewis had just published Moneyball. The heart of the story was that markets can really pretty dramatically misvalue and misjudge people.

And if a baseball player could be misjudged, who couldn't be, kind of thing. I thought it had a kind of universal message to it. What I didn't do is ask why baseball scouts were misvaluing baseball players. And I didn't really even notice that I hadn't done that. Lewis didn't notice that until he read a review of Moneyball, published in The New Republic, by the economist Richard Thaler and the legal scholar Cass Sunstein. And they said, very sweetly, that this is a good story Michael Lewis has written, but he doesn't seem to realize that these two guys named Danny Kahneman and Amos Tversky, psychologists,

have explored the biases in the human mind that lead people to make these sorts of misjudgments. And that was the first time I'd ever heard of Danny Kahneman and Amos Tversky. The fact that someone like Michael Lewis hadn't even heard of Danny Kahneman and Amos Tversky tells you something about how obscure most academic research is. It also tells you something about Lewis. I tend to have tunnel vision when I'm working on something. And when Danny Kahneman got the Nobel Prize in economics in 2002, I was in an Oakland A's dugout. And so I just wasn't paying attention. And it's not like Kahneman and Tversky are exactly famous today, outside of some rather specific circles.

But those circles have been expanding. And even if you don't know Kahneman and Tversky by name, you are living through a revolution that their research has made possible. A revolution as basic and important as understanding how people make decisions. Small decisions, like what to eat for lunch, and big ones, like whether to start a war. This revolution has many components and several names, the most prominent being behavioral economics, which is an interesting name for a couple of reasons. Number one, shouldn't all economics be behavioral? And number two, a lot of what people talk about

when they talk about behavioral economics isn't really economics at all, which makes sense since Kahneman and Tversky were psychologists and not economists. But economists, as Freakonomics Radio listeners know, can be a grabby breed. So they put their name on it, behavioral economics. Anyway, what is it? Loosely defined, it's a way of blending empiricism and common sense to understand how people behave. It marries the economist's belief that people respond to incentives with the psychologist's understanding that people often don't respond to incentives as rationally as economic theory might predict. It all starts with recognizing the gap between how we think we make decisions

and how we actually make them. The foundation of this field, along with much of its nomenclature, came from the minds of just two men, Amos Tversky and Danny Kahneman. They had a particularly intense and intimate intellectual partnership. Danny is a fertile source of ideas.

So he's really generative. And it's not that Amos isn't capable of being generative, but Danny is off the charts generative. He's almost the poetic or novelistic mind in the room. And Amos is the diamond cutter. Amos is a pure analytical mind who sees levels of abstraction in Danny's ideas and generalizes them and formalizes them so that they can be tested and expressed in a way that is academically respectable. But I think what they actually are doing is they're laughing at stupid things people do.

Amos was asked once by somebody, says, oh, does the work you and Danny do have any bearing on artificial intelligence? And Amos said, I'm much more interested in natural stupidity than I am in artificial intelligence. It wasn't a mocking spirit in which they operated. They were laughing also at themselves, at the sort of things that they did that struck them as irrational. And they were mining that for gold. They have really a rattlebag of ideas that they end up trying to classify. Ideas that all revolved around a central realization that when most of us make decisions, we essentially ignore the laws of probability and even logic, that we rely instead on primitive rules of thumb and shortcuts or heuristics in the language of academia that are prone to error. One such heuristic that Kahneman and Tversky explored is known as anchoring. Anchoring is the idea that your mind can be swayed by totally irrelevant information

when you're making a judgment. And they tested it by creating a wheel of fortune that had numbers 1 to 100 on it. You, the subject, the lab rat, would spin the wheel of fortune, and some number would come up, 20 or 47. And then they asked you to estimate what percentage of the countries in the United Nations came from Africa. And what they showed is people who spun a higher number on the wheel of fortune placed a higher estimate there,

and the people who spun a lower number on the Wheel of Fortune guessed lower. And they were anchored by just this number that had been mentioned before. The idea that you could have that kind of effect on a totally irrelevant judgment by just putting a number in front of it, I think it's totally original. Although every used car salesman sort of understands, right? Or Donald Trump understands. You name some huge number, and that becomes what you're kind of centering your judgment around. But what they showed is the number can have nothing whatsoever to do with the judgment you're making and still affect the judgment. Another mental shortcut Kahneman and Tversky examined is called the availability heuristic.

It's a fancy name for just memory, like what comes to mind easily and how that warps your judgment. For example, you're driving down the highway and you're going 75 miles an hour like everybody else. You're kind of assuming it's safe because nothing is alerting you to the probability of an accident. And then you see a horrible accident and everybody slows down to 50 because all of a sudden probability of an accident. And then you see a horrible accident and everybody slows down to 50 because all of a sudden probability of accident is more available. It's in your mind. So what comes easily in mind leads to all kinds of biases that people have named, the vividness bias. People think that a baseball player is a better baseball player than he is if his talents

are very vivid. If he's really, really fast or has a lot of power, he's more likely to be overvalued than if he has subtle abilities like plate discipline, because those aren't vivid. Recency bias is a consequence of the availability heuristic. It's whatever happened most recently is judged to be more probable or more likely. A hurricane hits New Orleans, wipes it out. Everybody thinks hurricanes are more likely to hit New Orleans

than they really are, and so forth. A lot of Kahneman and Tversky's research looked at how people think about risk and how we typically give adverse events a lot more weight than positive events. That was the thrust of their most influential paper published in 1979. It was called Prospect Theory, an analysis of decision under risk. It argued that the standard economic model for decision making didn't fully account for how real people make real decisions, especially if there's a possibility of a very bad outcome. It made sense that Kahneman and Tversky thought about this differently than economists. They were, after all, psychologists, but also they'd both seen some bad outcomes themselves. As a child, Kahneman survived the Holocaust, just barely, in France. Tversky was a paratrooper and an infantry commander in the Israeli army and saw his share of

death and disaster. Their own experiences with risk and adverse events informed what they thought about as scholars. They were both obsessed with how people process information, with how cognitive shortcuts get in the way of long-term logic, and especially with how we try in our minds to explain or even undo our worst experiences. The Undoing Project, the title of Michael Lewis's book, was also the name of the last project that Tversky and Kahneman worked on together. And the nature of the project was they were going to explore the rules of the human imagination.

They come to the conclusion that imagination wasn't just this free-flowing thing, that it actually had obeyed certain rules, and the way they thought they were going to study it was by studying the way people undid tragedies and tried to create alternative scenarios. When I saw the phrase, I thought, that's a good description of their enterprise. Because what these guys are engaged in doing

is undoing a false view of human nature and the way the mind works. And it had infiltrated the social sciences and we're just kind of in the air we breathed. As useful as it is, obviously, to identify all these heuristics we use and all the errors they lead to, and honestly, all the kind of loss that it leads to, how prescriptive were Kahneman and Tversky? You know, they were very diffident about how their work was going to be used. So I think they thought, I know they thought, that people were never going to be very good at correcting for their own illusions.

But I think they also thought that they might be good at correcting for other people's illusions. That it was easier to spot the mistakes and inefficiencies and irrationalities in other people's thinking and decision-making and judgment than it was your own. That and also the whole money ball thing, that you use data as an antidote to the warping that naturally goes on when you're making intuitive judgments. Coming up on Freakonomics Radio, how to undo that warping. Also, how the odd couple of Kahneman and Tversky came to be.

No one who knew them both could imagine them spending five minutes together. And how their work has exploded in recent years. It is incredible to me how many different spheres of human existence these guys' work has touched and influenced. Michael Lewis's book, The Undoing Project, is a portrait of two men who came together to rewrite many of the assumptions about how people think and make decisions. Amos Tversky and Danny Kahneman met in the late 1960s. They were both teaching psychology at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Aside from that fact, they didn't have much in common. Tversky was outgoing and headstrong and popular.

Kahneman was brooding and, despite his brilliance, riddled with insecurities. They also looked at psychology very differently. Amos had a kind of sterility to his academic interests. He was a mathematical psychologist. And if you want to put yourself to sleep at night, grab a mathematical psychologist. It doesn't really seem to have much to do with psychology. And Amos was happily assuming the assumptions of economics and mathematical psychology, which were that people were basically rational.

People, when they were making judgments and decisions, were basically good intuitive statisticians and making judgments as if they were good at them. Kahneman wasn't mathy at all. Intuitive, yes, and thoughtful, maybe to a fault. All he could think about was thinking. And he thought that the standard assumptions of mainstream economics and psychology were ridiculous. And he said so to Amos Tversky's face when Kahneman invited Tversky to speak to a graduate seminar that Kahneman was teaching. Tversky, with his

usual brio, began to extol the notion that most people are pretty good at making decisions based on a rational assessment of the available information. And Danny is the first one to really challenge him on this, saying, I'm not. I make mistake after mistake after mistake, and I'm smarter than most of the people I know. This is nonsense that I can show to you that people make systematic mistakes when they're faced with decisions and judgments. And this intrigued Amos, and very quickly, they are in a room together with the door shut and don't want to see anybody else. And a collaboration begins. And the collaboration is all about the exploration of how the human mind actually works.

This collaboration was surprising to just about everyone at Hebrew University. They were regarded as two big dogs on campus, yet they were also regarded as polar opposites. No one who knew them both could imagine them spending five minutes together. Kahneman was difficult, neurotic, seemingly perpetually unhappy, full of doubt, you know, tortured. He was very fertile, had lots of ideas, but the minute he had the ideas, he thought they were crap and he would walk away from his own ideas very quickly. What he says now is he had a peculiar talent for changing his mind. He liked changing his mind. That's a nice

spin on it. Do you believe it? I think it's much more complicated than that. I think that he doesn't know what stability feels like. He was a child of the Holocaust. He spent, you know, ages 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 being chased through southern France by Nazis and hiding in chicken coops and barns. He watched his father die because he couldn't seek medical treatment for fear of being caught by the Germans. And he himself has, as one of his central qualities, a kind of evasiveness. People found him hard to know, but incredibly talented. And when he got up in front of a class and talked, he was mesmerizing. So mesmerizing, as one of the students said, that after he had Danny's class, he was kind of found other professors not that interesting.

And he complained to one of the administrators at Hebrew University. He says, you can't do this. He said that you can't compare other teachers to Kahneman. There's Kahneman and then there's everybody else. Amos was untroubled, happy, simple, very clear in his head. You know, you describe his childhood. It's not the childhood of an intellectual. It's a childhood of a kind of happy kid who's pressed into a military service and through kind of status needs becomes a Spartan warrior, like a lot of these first generation Israelis were at

that time. And he almost certainly killed people. He almost certainly had people trying to kill him. He was a decorated war hero, among other things. He saved other soldiers' lives and risked his own. And at the end of his life, he still had shrapnel in his body and was widely admired by everybody who knew him. And he was, from a very early age, identified by other people more than by himself as intellectually spectacular. The psychologist Richard Nisbet, after he got to

know Amos, designed a one-line intelligence test which gets repeated over and over. And it's this, it's the longer it takes you to figure out that Amos Tversky is smarter than you, the stupider you are. Amos Tversky was smart enough to realize that Danny Kahneman, for all his insecurities, would be a priceless intellectual partner. Central to the dynamic was Amos giving Danny the confidence to be himself. That Danny did not have confidence to be himself, and he didn't realize how precious and valuable he was. And thus began one of the most productive intellectual partnerships in modern history. Before long, both men moved to the States. They wrote paper after paper after paper, many of them fiercely original, and at first glance, a bit weird, for academia is a realm in which originality is praised but rarely pursued.

Tversky and Kahneman tore apart and then reconstructed the models that social scientists use to make sense of human behavior. It took some time, but their work crossed over into economics, the most hard-headed of the social sciences. It helped, surely, that Tversky was mathy enough that their papers wound up in journals like Econometrica, which published their landmark paper Prospect Theory, an analysis of decision under risk. A more typical Econometrica article of that era? Something like Robert F. Engel's paper called Autoregressive Conditional Heteroscedasticity with Estimates of the Variance of United Kingdom Inflation, which I'm sure you all remember well. Kahneman and especially Tversky were originals in their personal lives as well. You write at length about Amos's singular approach to life and work, that he really only did what he wanted to do always, which made other people kind of astonished. When he wanted to go for a run, he would just take off his pants and go out in the street and run. I'm curious about you, Michael Lewis, whether as a writer,

as a human, as a father, whatever, did it make you a bit envious to be learning and writing about someone who expressed his own preferences so aggressively whenever he wanted? And did it make you change anything in your life? Well, that's an interesting question because when I described Amos to my wife, I told her a couple of things. I said, you know, he was so ruthless in doing only what he wanted to do that when his mail came in in the morning,

he'd flip through it, glance at it, and say, what can they do to me rule? If by not opening the letter, he wasn't going to get in any trouble. He just chuck it in the garbage can. And this included like invitations to parties or, you know, thank you notes or whatever it was. He was just, he had a gift for just not being in any situation he didn't want to be in. And he told people that he gave people advice. He says, you find yourself at a party or a board meeting or a faculty meeting and you find it's a waste of your time.

Don't think up the excuse. You don't have to think up an excuse to leave. You'll never think of the words. Get up and leave. And as you're walking towards the door, the words will come. Now, I've actually taken that advice. But when I told my wife about this, she said to me, he's just like you. And there is an element of Amos in me where I am extremely good at avoiding anything I don't want to do. kind of pick the most obvious difference between them and build that difference up to the point

where we treat those two groups as very, very different when in fact, mostly what's underlying is similarities. And I'm curious, any thoughts you might have to how that issue affects how we, for instance, talk about race in America now or the political discourse? One of the big things the human mind is doing all the time is making similarity judgments. Is this a friend or a foe? Is this a potential mate or not? Is this edible food or not? It's always classifying. We take it for granted, but we're doing it all the time. And Amos was interested, even before he meets Danny, in how people make these judgments, like what makes two things similar to each other. And he

did really interesting work on the subject. And out of this work rose this other heuristic that they discovered. They call it the represented heuristic. And if you want to put it in plain English, roughly what they're saying is that people think in stereotypes. And the stereotypes are incredibly powerful. And when we're looking for someone to fill any kind of job, the fact that someone looks kind of like we imagine the person who holds that job typically to look has huge effects on our judgment about whether that person will be good at that job, much to our detriment. In fact, I think they would probably agree that if a person looks too much like they belong in a job, it's probably exactly when you want to question whether they belong in the job, because maybe they got to the job because of the power of the stereotype.

But it seems to me, at least, that there's a bit of a catch-22 in that in the modern era, we talk a lot about equity and fairness and reparations of different sorts and therefore dwell even more on the defining characteristics that are different. And my concern is that by focusing on the differences, you essentially just continue to rebuild and recreate and magnify the stereotypes. Am I wrong? I think you're right. If you want to reduce the power of a stereotype, you eliminate the classifications. The more you reinforce the classifications, the more powerful the stereotype will be. That's their work. I mean, that's not me speaking. That's their work. And so it is, you're absolutely right. The more we focus on race as a differentiator between people, the more stereotypes are going to be driving people's judgments. Well, I guess this leads to what their work has become, which is, you know, a couple economists

adopted or hijacked or whatever you want to call it, this work and turned it into a field that is now in academia in particular, but elsewhere in government and firms, even individuals, behavioral economics has caught on a lot. But it is prescriptive in that it acknowledges the shortcomings of our thought processes and then designs kind of essentially workarounds. So talk to me for just a minute about the degree to which the rest of the world is using moves from, nudges from, whatever we want to call them, that are derived from the work of Kahneman and Tversky and how successful you think they're being. It's a messy story, but it is incredible to me how many different spheres of human existence these guys work has touched and influenced.

So it's not just economics. You know, medicine, it's now a standard part of medical training for doctors to be introduced to Kahneman-Tversky's work, or at least their ideas, because they're going to be rendering intuitive judgments about patients. And they need to be aware of how they might be fallible. In government, I think the big influence that Amos and Danny have had is in an awareness of the importance of choice architecture,

that the environment in which people make the decision has a huge effect on the decision. And if you want government workers to save more money, you design the pension plan so that they have to opt out of them rather than opt into them. And all of a sudden, you double or triple the savings rates. If you want school lunches to be healthy, you create the default option as a healthy option and force the kids to trade it in for a less healthy option if they want it. There are units in the US government, in the British government, in the Australian government, the German government's interested in it, the Scandinavian governments, they're calling them nudge units after Dick

Thaler and Cass Sunstein's work. But his job is really to create environments that will lead people to make choices that are good for them. And that really comes out of Danny and Amos's work. I mean, one of their great discoveries is that people don't make clean, clear decisions between things or choices between things. They make choices between descriptions of things. So how things are described have a huge effect on the way people choose. And governments are often charged with creating these decision-making environments. So these two guys, Danny Kahneman and Amos Tversky, had an incredibly fruitful, original intellectual partnership that was also a very rocky relationship at times.

Danny felt that Amos was getting a lot of credit for their work. Danny could be resentful and insecure. And as you write the story, three days before Amos Tversky was diagnosed with melanoma they'd effectively ended their friendship Kahneman called it a divorce Amos died Danny later won a Nobel Prize in economics and Amos being dead was not eligible to receive that so Danny wins the Nobel for work that had been done largely with Amos. So talk for a minute about Danny's feelings about the award and all the recognition and opportunity it brought to him with his partner gone. One of the most lovable things about Danny Kahneman is as much as he tortures other people with his doubt, he tortures himself even more. And when Amos had died, he was left

with a sense, Danny, that the world found their work extremely important, but maybe thought maybe he didn't have that much to do with it. And he had an invitation from the Nobel Prize committee to come and give a talk in 2001 in Stockholm, which he thought of as an audition for the Nobel Prize Committee to come and give a talk in 2001 in Stockholm, which he thought of as an audition for the Nobel Prize. And he thought the question wasn't, is the work worthy? The question is, am I worthy? And he, you know, some part of him, I think, thought maybe he wasn't. Some part of him always wondered how important he was, where Amos had never had any doubts about Danny's importance. I mean, Amos actually thought Danny was more important than Amos to the whole thing. And so the prize has prizes usually have a kind of temporary effect. I think Danny and Amos's own work would

predict that people's expectation of happiness from a Nobel Prize would exceed the happiness in the moment, which would probably exceed the happiness of the memory of it. Well, unless the prize leads to opportunity and continuing recognition, which it really did in this case, right? In this case, it did. And people who know Danny told me going in that one of the problems you're going to have writing this book is the person who we know post-Nobel Prize is entirely different from the person who got the Nobel Prize is entirely different from the person who got the Nobel Prize and that he's much less

gloomy, much less consumed with doubts, that there's kind of like a sense in Danny that everything might kind of work out, which he never had before. And it puts him in a position in relation to the rest of the world that he's most comfortable with. He's the descendant of famous rabbis. And he once said that when someone asked him if he could imagine an alternative career for himself, he said, I could only have been two things, a professor or a rabbi. He likes to be in the position of being the wise man.

And he naturally is the wise man. And when you have a Nobel Prize in not even your field, I mean, he doesn't even know that much economics. And they gave him the Nobel Prize in economics because of the influence he had on economics. You are treated wherever you go as the wise man and he plays the role beautifully. Well, and he deserves it, frankly, right? My God, I've written about a lot of people and I've had a lot of characters in my life over the course of my career. I've never had one of such depth of interest as Danny Kahneman.

Everything that comes out of his mouth is interesting. Everything he thinks is interesting. He just doesn't believe it. For the record, it was the work of Kahneman and Tversky that first got me interested in economics and which led to Freakonomics. Before them, economics seemed too

methodical, too bloodless. So I'm grateful to Danny Kahneman and Amos Tversky for shining their light into the human brain. And I'm thankful to Michael Lewis for shining his light on them. Coming up next week on Freakonomics Radio, a very different kind of conversation. What would I call my religion? The Church of the Truth. That's what I would call it. Which, in the end, gets into a lot of the ideas we talked about today. The one thing you're negating is the fact that what you feel or think about the world

is not mutually exclusive from what the world thinks or feels about you. It's a conversation with Trevor Noah, host of The Daily Show, about religion, race, and podcasts. I've come to the conclusion that people who refuse to listen to Freakonomics Radio are unfortunately doomed to be labeled as idiots. That's next time on Freakonomics Radio. Freakonomics Radio is produced by WNYC Studios and Dubner Productions. This episode was produced by Greg Rosalski. Our staff also includes Shelley Lewis, Christopher Wirth, Merritt Jacob, Stephanie Tam, Eliza Lambert, Alison Hockenberry, Emma Morgenstern, Harry Huggins, and Brian Gutierrez.

You can subscribe to this podcast on iTunes or wherever you get your podcasts. And you should come visit Freakonomics.com where you'll find our entire podcast archive, as well as a complete transcript of every episode we've ever made, along with music credits and lots of extras. Thanks for listening.