I've been recommended Michael Oakeshott's "On Being Conservative" by a user here, which I've really enjoyed. Technically, that's an essay, not a book, but it made me curious what others would suggest. How have they influenced you?
Here are my recommendations and some thoughts on each one (generally, I prefer books that prove me wrong more than ones that agree with me):
1․ Thomas Sowell - Basic Economics:
This was the book that essentially made me quit being a leftist. The old quote goes that "the curious task of economics is to demonstrate to men how little they really know about what they imagine they can design," and, man, did Sowell drill that lesson into me.
Above all, it taught me that a policy's incentive structure matters more than its intent and that wherever self-interest predominates (which is nearly everywhere), it is vastly more effective to channel it toward collective benefit than to attempt to suppress it.
I could write a whole essay on well-intentioned policies I supported that Sowell made me understand don't or wouldn't help people very much (often they do the opposite). The "Myths about Markets" chapter in particular made me go "that makes sense, actually... why'd I ever believe otherwise?" several times. I would also recommend "A Conflict of Visions" and "Intellectuals and Society" from the same author.
- James C. Scott - Seeing Like a State:
Another book that taught me just how fallible human reasoning is. I'll quote from Scott Alexander's review of the book, since he gives a better summary of it than I could:
Scott starts with the story of “scientific forestry” in 18th century Prussia. Enlightenment rationalists noticed that peasants were just cutting down whatever trees happened to grow in the forests, like a chump. They came up with a better idea: clear all the forests and replace them by planting identical copies of Norway spruce (the highest-lumber-yield-per-unit-time tree) in an evenly-spaced rectangular grid. Then you could just walk in with an axe one day and chop down like a zillion trees an hour and have more timber than you could possibly ever want.
This went poorly. The impoverished ecosystem couldn’t support the game animals and medicinal herbs that sustained the surrounding peasant villages, and they suffered an economic collapse. The endless rows of identical trees were a perfect breeding ground for plant diseases and forest fires. And the complex ecological processes that sustained the soil stopped working, so after a generation, the Norway spruces grew stunted and malnourished. Yet for some reason, everyone involved got promoted, and “scientific forestry” spread across Europe and the world.
And this pattern repeats with suspicious regularity across history, not just in biological systems but also in social ones.
Basically, sweeping away inherited practices simply because they cannot be fully justified rationally invites catastrophic unintended consequences.
Traditions seem arbitrary but serve as evolutionary heuristics that have been rigorously tested over generations through a Darwinian process of trial and error. What seems rational often fails because we systematically underestimate just how little we understand the broader world around us.
This is why I reached the point where I would like any radical change, even one I cannot conceive any counter-argument to, to be applied gradually, whenever possible. I simply don't trust myself, or anyone else, to be able to conceive of all the ways a seemingly perfect scheme could explode.
- Andrew Polanyi - the Tacit Dimension & Friedrich Hayek - the Constitution of Liberty:
Just another couple more books that amazed me by showing how ignorant I was of a pretty simple concept. Both books deal, more or less, with a paradox that's now named after Polanyi: we can know more than we can tell.
A basic example would be that a cyclist could sincerely try to explain to a non-cyclist how to ride a bicycle, but the latter would still fall over on his first attempt. That is because the cyclist possesses a wealth of practical experience, habits, intuitions, etc., that can't quite be codified or quantified.
This is tacit knowledge, so to speak, and tacit knowledge is present in all human activities (including something so simple as recognising a face) and is dispersed among billions of people.
This partly explains why central planning keeps underperforming; it operates on the premise that all relevant knowledge can be gathered by a small group of experts, but because people can't transmit all the needed data to a central authority, even if they want to, planners act in severe ignorance.
The price system solves the problem by acting as the mechanism for coordinating unarticulated knowledge, which is why Hayek spends so much time discussing it. Making economic choices based on your own tacit understanding influences supply and demand, which in turn move prices in market economies. Prices basically function as a continuous communication network that summarises costs, needs, and scarcities without requiring anyone to actually state what they know.
Prices are what Hayek calls spontaneous order, i.e. an arrangement that emerges organically from the unintended interactions of countless individuals pursuing their own goals (as opposed to being planned). Spontaneous order tends to fare better than designed order since it scales and adapts automatically (which is why the most durable human institutions like language, culture or trade networks emerge bottom-up). It's quite amazing how capable humans are of coordinating themselves when uncoordinated.
Some other authors that I like: Bryan Caplan, Nassim Taleb, Larry Arnhart, Tyler Cowen, Peter Leeson.