The Joy of Being a Rational Ignoramus

Ah, spring. The time of year when a young man's fancy turns to thoughts of love . . . and rational ignorance.

Granted, it is actually summer and, having recently attained 32 years, I'm not exactly a lad anymore. But back in May I met a winsome lady and things between us have been progressing in a most pleasant fashion ever since.

So much for the love part, you say, but what are you talking about, rational ignorance?

Well, it transpires that my lady friend (whom we will call Babette to protect the innocent) admitted to not knowing, until relatively recently, who Dick Cheney was.

Shocking! But it wasn't Babette's admission that surprised me so much as her attitude toward her knowledge deficit. She didn't see any reason why she should have known who Dick Cheney was. Sure, he's the vice president of the United States, she said, but why should she care about that?

This exchange put me in mind of the economic concept of "rational ignorance." Simply stated, this concept tells us that an individual's decision to become informed about something is influenced by the cost – measured in terms of time and effort, not just dollars – of becoming informed. It is an especially useful concept when one is discussing politics and, particularly, elections.

Rational ignorance explains why various special interests wield so much influence over government officials. Economist Walter Williams uses the example of the sugar industry, where Congress maintains high tariffs on imported sugar so that domestic producers can sell their product to Americans at higher prices. It's worth it to the relatively few producers to spend their time, money, and energy lobbying Congress for the tariffs because it means millions of dollars in artificially increased profits and wages for them. For the much greater mass of American sugar consumers, however, the tariffs mean around $2 billion more a year in sugar costs, which translates into a couple bucks more for the average person – hardly worth bothering about on an individual level.

In other words, it makes sense for the ordinary American to remain rationally ignorant about the issue of sugar tariffs because it's far less of a hassle to pay $5 more a year for sugar than it is brush up on the relevant legislation and jump a plane to Washington to personally lobby Congress for lower (or no) sugar tariffs.

For various reasons, it's not even worth writing a letter or making a phone call about it. Your Congressman is only one of 435 (535 when you add the Senate) and is most likely not in any position to do much about the tariffs by himself. And, as Williams points out, who is he going to listen to, you or the organized sugar lobby, which is ready, willing, and able to use various carrot-and-stick pressure tactics, including campaign donations or the withdrawal thereof, should it become displeased with Rep. Rapscallion's voting behavior? The answer is obvious.

(Of course, the cost of sugar tariffs can be measured in more than just those few extra dollars out of your wallet. For example, I still mourn the loss of the Coca-Cola I used to enjoy as a boy, when it was sweetened with real sugar instead of the cheaper but awful-tasting corn syrup used today. For a more dramatic example, hundreds of employees at a Michigan plant that makes LifeSavers candies are losing their jobs this summer as production moves to Canada, which imports sugar at the much lower, freely traded world price.)

Rational ignorance lies at the heart of the government racket. Politicians exploit it to curry favor with a whole host of special interest groups by voting to give them concentrated financial benefits – while distributing the costs of those benefits widely over the general population. Thus is the average American nickel and dimed out of nearly half of his paycheck by the parasites posturing as our worthy and true public servants.

Whether she realized it or not, my lady friend Babette was displaying the profound wisdom born of common sense and centuries of human experience when she defended her ignorance of Dick Cheney's identity. She has probably never heard the term "rational ignorance" before. But 19th-century author Ambrose Bierce probably didn't either when he wrote that "an election is nothing more than an advance auction of stolen goods."

As for me, since I can't stand to drink Coke anymore, I'll pour myself a beer – and talk with the charming Babette about matters more interesting than politics.

July 16, 2003