measurability matters, pt 2

Yesterday, I wrote about measurability invading on the value or quality judgements we make about a thing. Check it out here

This past week, I've started listening to Debt, by David Graeber, and it is thoroughly blowing my mind. He essentially is saying (so far--I'm only a few chapters deep into this monster) that while most of us believe today that the progression of human-economic development went like this: first, trade; then, money; then, debt--the reality is roughly the opposite. Debt is actually primary in that it relates to our intrinsic human notion of credit, as in "I owe you a favor for giving me shoes," or "he deserves credit for saving our tribe from the mastadon." 

Once you owe someone something, it is only a few jumps away to see how easily something like money could stand-in as a tool for counting. Money itself, then, is not representative of value (like, a gold coin is not intrinsically "valuable" beyond it's ability to be traded for shit that matters, like food). 

So why is money so exalted, and at the very center of damn-near every discussion? I'm sure Dr. Graeber will have some great reasons, but in the meantime, here's mine: Cash is considered primary now simply because it is easier to count. And if that's the case, we have to wonder why and how our current money system won out. I mean, isn't all the fuss about money in general just people's attempt to profit on this essential "slipperiness" (the ease at which money is cycled around and through systems) of money?

In yesterday's case about weight being our culture's primary health metric, I see the same thing going on. There's a moral here somewhere. 

measurability matters, pt 1

About once a month I run into this pattern: how easily something can be measured contributes significantly to its use and perceived worth as a metric. 

The most clear example is body weight. People continue to rely on this essentially trivial metric for one reason: it is easy to measure. They associate incredibly important and life-impacting qualities (how healthy am I? how do I feel? how do I look? what can I do?) with the results of a weigh-in, when in reality weight is far too general of a measure to really mean anything. Caring about your weight is like caring about your shadow--sure, it is something that exists, and we can all look at our own pretty easily, but, like, who cares?

To prove this point on the other end of things, far more insightful metrics, like body fat, waist:height ratio, functional strength tests, and physiological tests (cardio-pulmonary, blood chemistry, hormone profile, etc) are just too damn hard for healthcare--or us, for that matter--to care about. And because they're hard, we value them less, even though they are way more valuable than a body weight measurement. 

Similar stupefying patterns arise all over the place: sports, business, and economics. Tomorrow I try to connect it to credit (due to my current listening to this super cool book called Debt, by David Graeber)...don't laugh, Mr. Westbrook.  

pets have us trained

Things are pretty awkward when you are responsible for a pet. We see them as these cuteness machines, grossly exagerrated and sickly sweet, all the while believing that they somehow need us. No, no, it's the other way around. 

Pets make us feel needed, in a simple and non-judgemental way. They demand our attention, and in giving that attention we are fulfilled, even for the shortest moment. They're like simple, daily lessons in empathy. And all because: you might be a self-serving asshole to the rest of the world, but you sure as fuck feed your dog. And if you don't, they're gonna die--and thems some hard feelings to ignore. 

They engage a part of us that we all desperately want engaged, and for that reason we are able to deny all rational logic: they get us to do their bidding.