
Back on track.
Yesterday, I introduced the idea of relegating failed states out of the United States. So, how would the system work?
First, we’d have to develop a definition of what “success” really means. Such a definition might include a number of metrics such as educational attainment, employment, crime rates, justice system, health care, life expectancy and, perhaps, a citizen satisfaction index. It might also include some fairness metrics, aiming to understand how minorities fare within the state. It should also include a freedom index that measures how much citizens can do as they please.
There are probably many other metrics to include in the mix. Ultimately, we roll them all into a complex formula and calculate a number. Frankly, it’s not all that different from calculating a quarterback efficiency rating: a lot of stuff goes in, one number comes out.
We then rank the states and allow them to work on improvements. At the end of a decade, we relegate the bottom five – the least successful states. They are granted their independence and are no longer states within the United States.
The relegated states are, in a sense, liberated as well. They no longer need to worry about regulations emanating from Washington. They’re free to behave as they choose. Of course, they no longer receive subsidies from Washington, either.
The system allows for promotion as well as relegation. At the end of each decade, states that had been relegated could choose to apply for re-admission. We would need to develop rules and procedures to determine if they would be re-admitted and how they would be re-integrated. Fortunately, we have at least 20 years to work on the problem.
Ideally, the system would allow non-traditional states to apply for “promotion” as well. With Alaska and Hawaii, we’ve shown that states do not need to be contiguous. Let’s imagine that Wales wants to become a state within the United States. The city of Aberystwyth, Wales is actually much closer to Washington, D.C. than Honolulu is – so distance shouldn’t be a problem. If they can pass the success metrics, I’d be happy to have Wales join our union.
Like any other system, the devil is in the details. Working out the definition of success will take time. (On the other hand, identifying moocher states is quite easy). Plus, we would have to work out all the mechanisms of entry and exit. We could learn a lot from the experience of the European Union.
Despite the obstacles, I think this is a system that would appeal to many Americans precisely because it promotes American virtues, including:
Competition – states will actually have to compete with each other rather than lolling around on government welfare.
Responsibility and accountability – if you don’t do the work, you don’t get the benefits.
Incentives – states, for the first time, have the incentive to improve themselves.
Lower taxes — if giver states no longer have to support moocher states, we can significantly lower taxes.
Freedom – states are free to choose whether they stay or go. To leave the union, all they have to do is continue to fail.
It’s an all-American scheme that will reduce taxes while promoting the well being of our citizens. Let’s get started.

You’ve been relegated.
I’ve always admired the European system of relegating athletic teams to lower divisions when they don’t perform well. The system creates much better competition while rewarding teams that do well and penalizing teams that fail.
Let’s say you own a soccer team in the “A” league, the highest level of competition. In addition to the “A” league, your country also has a “B” league, a “C” league, etc. Being in the “A” league provides a lot of privileges – greater attendance, television revenue, prestige, and so on. You have a lot of incentive to keep your club in the “A” league.
At the end of each season, however, the bottom three teams in the “A” league are relegated to the “B” league. At the same time, the top three teams in the “B” league are promoted to the “A” league. (The number of teams moving up or down varies from league to league). You have a very strong incentive not to let your team fall to the bottom of the standings.
In the American system, on the other hand, an “A” league team will always stay in the “A” league, no matter how poorly it performs. There’s no chance that my Colorado Rockies will be relegated to the minor leagues even though they stunk up the major leagues last year.
The American system creates a number of perverse incentives. There’s a clear incentive to lose games one year to improve your draft position the next year. Even if you have a crummy team, you still get to share in league-related income, like TV revenues. You don’t get the glory of winning a championship, but the financial penalties of failing are not very stiff. If you’re just in it for the money, there’s no real incentive to win.
The European system seems clearly superior. It creates greater competition, removes perverse incentives, and creates a system of accountability. You win, you’re in. You lose, you’re out. That seems much more American than European.
I’ve been wondering lately if we couldn’t apply a relegation system to the states of the United States. We have 50 states and some are clearly more successful than others. Even the failing states, however, reap huge rewards from remaining in the union.
In our current system, there’s no real incentive for a state to succeed. Even if a state fails, it still gets huge subsidies from other states. In fact, the greater the failure, the greater the subsidy. It’s a perverse incentive: the worse you do, the more you get.
In fact, some states – let’s call them moocher states – get a net benefit of billions of dollars from the federal government. These states pay a relatively small amount in federal taxes but get huge federal subsidies in return. There’s no incentive for such a state to invest locally. It would only reduce the federal subsidy.
The giver states, on the other hand, are penalized for their success. They see their moneys drained away to subsidize the moocher states. This reduces their incentive to continue to succeed.
So, what to do with the moocher states? Let’s set up a league table and rank states on their success. Every ten years, let’s drop the bottom five from the union. That will improve competitiveness, enhance local autonomy, emphasize responsibility and accountability, and erase perverse incentives. What could be more American than that?

It’s clear but is it accurate?
I teach a course in critical thinking and friends sometimes ask, “Well, what does that mean?” Essentially, it’s a process of thinking about thinking in a structured, systematic way. The goal is to think more clearly and fairmindedly.
It’s also about epistemology: how do we know what we know? More specifically, how do we know that what we know is true?
It’s generally agreed, for instance, that there are eight “intellectual standards” that can help us think more clearly. Each is important in its own right but the order is also important. Here they are:
Clarity – this is the most basic standard; it’s a gateway to other standards. If a statement is not clear, we can’t reason effectively. The question, “What can be done about the crisis in the family?” is unclear. Useful clarifying questions include, Can you give me an example?, How do you define the problem?
Accuracy – a statement can be clear but not accurate: “Travis is a genius.” Advertisers and politicians frequently make statements that are clear but not accurate. At the same time, our own thoughts may not be accurate. So, we need external reference points that can help us validate accuracy. For instance, a friend publishes the website Thinking Arizona, which provides “facts to inform the public discourse”. That seems like a growth market.
Precision – a statement can be clear and accurate but not precise: “Travis is overweight.” Well, how much overweight? Is this a small problem or a big problem? Key question: can you be more specific?
Relevance — a statement can be clear, accurate, and precise but not relevant. I once explained to my boss just how hard I was working on a particular project. Her response was, “So what?” It really wasn’t relevant.
Depth – a statement can be clear, accurate, precise and relevant but shallow. Here’s one: “If we just eliminated sex ed in high schools, teens wouldn’t get pregnant.” Well, maybe … but somehow teen pregnancy seems to be a much deeper, more complicated issue. Key question: Is that really the most significant factor?
Breadth — a statement can be clear, accurate, precise, relevant and deep but too narrow. Politicians do this regularly, presenting only the conservative or only the liberal point of view. At the same time, we may be narrow in our own thinking. So we may need to broaden our own thinking as well as “their” thinking. Key questions: What about the other side? What if we flip the question around?
Logic – a statement may be all of the above but not logical – it just doesn’t make sense. The coin toss experiment that proves that criticism is more effective than praise is a good example. Key questions: How does that conclusion flow from the evidence? Are other factors involved?
Significance – a statement may be all of the above but not significant. This is a little different than relevance. You may find that multiple factors are relevant but only one or two are significant. For instance, lung cancer may have multiple causes (all of which are relevant) but smoking is probably the cause that is most significant.
All of this may seem like “structured common sense” and in a way it is. But it’s useful to review these standards occasionally to remember how they fit together. I also like to review the questions from time to time so they’re on the tip of my tongue when I get into an argument.
Note: Most books on critical thinking would present some variation of this material. I adapted this version from Critical Thinking, 3rd edition, by Richard Paul and Linda Elder.

Dessert! Why wait?
The future is uncertain. Eat dessert first.
If you act on this sage advice, you may well come from a culture that’s high on the Uncertainty Avoidance Index (UAI). As Geert and Gert Jan Hofstede have pointed out, the desire to avoid uncertainty varies dramatically from culture to culture and fundamentally affects how people think and behave.
The Hofstedes (father and son) study the influence of national cultures on organizational behavior. They write that there are five basic dimensions of culture: 1) power distance; 2) individualist/ collectivist; 3) masculine/feminine; 4) Uncertainty avoidance; 5) short-term/long-term orientation. I’ve written about the first three previously (here, here, and here). Today, let’s talk about uncertainty avoidance.
The Uncertainty Avoidance Index measures the degree to which a culture believes that what’s different is dangerous. Countries with high UAIs tend to be anxious about ambiguity and the future in general. They often establish laws, behavioral codes, religions, and technologies that reduce ambiguity. Countries with high UAIs include Greece (UAI = 114), Poland (93), Japan (92), France (86), South Korea (85), Israel (81), and Italy (75).
Countries with low UAIs tend to believe that what’s difference is curious. They are generally less rules-oriented and less anxious about the future. They tend to see the world as a relatively benevolent place and to give the benefit of the doubt to new ideas, situations, and people. Countries with low UAIs include the United States (46), India (40), Great Britain (35), Ireland (35), Sweden (29), and Denmark (23).
Uncertainty avoidance expresses itself in many different ways. Very generally speaking, families in affluent countries with high UAIs have fewer children than those in affluent countries with low UA indexes. People in high UAI cultures tend to be more stressed and rules for children are quite firm. People in low UAI culture tend to be more agreeable and more blasé about children’s play habits. They worry less about health and money.
Let’s say you want to market a product internationally, including both low and high UAI countries. Your message will need to be very different. In high UAI countries, consumers will want to know about the purity and cleanliness of the product. They also value expert opinion in their advertising. In low UAI countries, consumers tend to seek convenience rather than purity and prefer humorous ads.
Similarly, consumers in low UAI countries find used cars acceptable and are more likely to be do-it-yourself enthusiasts. They also tend to be early adopters of new technologies. Consumers in high UAI countries tend to prefer new cars and hire experts to do their home repairs. They’re also slower to adopt new technologies.
In the workplace, differences are equally pronounced. High UAI cultures emphasize the importance of rules – even those that are not obeyed. They also prefer more structure, precision, and formality. Managers should be technical experts and tend to focus on daily operations.
Low UAI cultures have fewer rules in the workplace and value managers who are known more for common sense than technical expertise. Managers focus more on strategy than daily operations. Low UAI workplaces tend to be better at inventing new processes but high UAI workplaces are better at implementing them.
It’s a very interesting mix, especially when you combine uncertainty with masculinity, individualism, and power distance. To learn more, get the Hofstede’s book.

Because I know how to think.
I used to teach research methods, which is about creating knowledge. Now I teach critical thinking, which is about assessing knowledge. How do we know what we know and how can we assess knowledge in an objective, fairminded way?
It’s a fun course because we think about thinking. We discuss everything from egocentrism to reason, logic, ethics, media bias, and unfair ways to win an argument. Many of the students challenge their own beliefs and we all challenge each other. It’s a stimulating way to learn to think clearly and to avoid getting bamboozled.
What surprises me about the class is how surprised the students are. Even though much of the course is applied common sense, they’ve rarely thought of this before. That concerns me because these are Master’s students. All of them have at least four years of undergraduate study. Yet they haven’t thought about how to think. Here are some quotes from recent student papers:
I never thought to think about thinking
It is revolutionary for me to understand that there is an analytical process called critical thinking that I can [use] to systematically develop clearer thinking…
… while I practiced some critical thinking basics, I had really only scratched the surface
This class taught me that I was unconscious of the connection between my thoughts and emotions.
It was not required in my undergraduate program and I have never taken a class similar to it.
So, I’ve been asking myself, why aren’t we teaching college students how to think? My Mom always told me that the purpose of college was to learn how to think. Was she wrong or have we given up on that objective?
When I was in undergraduate school, the first two years of our four-year curriculum were given over to “general education”. We didn’t start to specialize in our major – finance or engineering or anthropology – until the third year. Today, it seems that general education has simply evaporated. Students start specializing as soon as they land on campus.
So when do they learn to think? If a finance major takes four years of accounting courses, what do they really gain, other than an exceedingly narrow view of the world? I wonder if we haven’t gone too far in the direction of preparing students for the job market. We identify the technical skills the market requires – accounting, programming, etc. – but not the thinking skills.
Do companies really want ace spreadsheet jockeys who don’t know how to evaluate whether an assumption is logical or not? As someone who hired several hundred people in my career, I would say no. I preferred hiring people who can think clearly and communicate effectively. The rest is trivial.
So, I’m all in favor of bringing back general education and teaching students how to think. I’m not sure how to go about it but I’m developing a theory that the MOOCs will help get us back to basics. That may be the silver lining in the coming wave of MOOC disruption.