Naked Economics by Wheelan, Charles (best books to read .TXT) 📗

The government has another crucial role: It provides a wide array of goods, so-called “public goods,” that make us better off but would not otherwise be provided by the private sector. Suppose I decide to buy an antimissile system to protect myself from missiles lobbed by rogue nations. (It would be similar to the DirecTV satellite dish, only a lot more expensive.) I ask my neighbor Etienne if he would like to share the cost of this system; he says no, knowing full well that my missile defense will shield his house from any missiles that North Korea may send our way. Etienne, and most of my other neighbors, have a powerful incentive to be “free riders” on my system. At the same time, I do not want to pay the full cost of the system myself. In the end, we get no missile defense system even though it might have made us all better off.

Public goods have two salient characteristics. First, the cost of offering the good to additional users—even thousands or millions of people—is very low or even zero. Think of that missile defense system; if I pay to knock terrorist missiles out of the sky, the millions of people who live relatively close to me in the Chicago metropolitan area get that benefit free. The same is true of a radio signal or a lighthouse or a large park; once it is operational for one person, it can serve thousands more at no extra cost. Second, it is very hard, if not impossible, to exclude persons who have not paid for the good from using it. How exactly do you tell a ship’s captain that he can’t use a lighthouse? Do you make him close his eyes as he sails by? (“Attention USS Britannica: You are peeking!”) I once had a professor at Princeton who began his lecture on public goods by saying, “Okay, who are the suckers who actually contribute to public radio?”

Free riders can cripple enterprises. Author Stephen King once attempted an experiment in which he offered his new novel directly to readers via the Internet. The plan was that he would offer monthly installments for readers to download in exchange for a $1 payment based on the honor system. He warned that the story would fold if fewer than 75 percent of readers made the voluntary payment. “If you pay, the story rolls. If you don’t, it folds,” he wrote on the website. The outcome was sadly predictable to economists who have studied these kinds of problems. The story folded. At the time “The Plant” went into hibernation, only 46 percent of readers had paid to download the last chapter offered.

That is the basic problem if public goods are left to private enterprise. Firms cannot force consumers to pay for these kinds of goods, no matter how much utility they may derive from them or how often they use them. (Remember the lighthouse.) And any system of voluntary payments falls prey to the free riders. Think about the following:

Basic research. We have already discussed the powerful incentives that profits create for pharmaceutical companies and the like. But not all important scientific discoveries have immediate commercial applications. Exploring the universe or understanding how human cells divide or seeking subatomic particles may be many steps removed from launching a communications satellite or developing a drug that shrinks tumors or finding a cleaner source of energy. As important, this kind of research must be shared freely with other scientists in order to maximize its value. In other words, you won’t get rich—or even cover your costs in most cases—by generating knowledge that may someday significantly advance the human condition. Most of America’s basic research is done either directly by the government at places like NASA and the National Institutes for Health or at research universities, which are nonprofit institutions that receive federal funding.

Law enforcement. There is no shortage of private security firms—“rent-a-cops” as we used to call them in college as they aggressively sought out twenty-year-old beer drinkers. But there is a limit to what they can or will do. They will only defend your property against some kind of trespass. They will not proactively seek out criminals who might someday break into your house; they will not track Mexican drug kingpins or stop felons from entering the country or solve other crimes so that the perpetrator does not eventually attack you. All of these things would make you and your property safer in the long run, but they have inherent free rider problems. If I pay for this kind of security, everyone else in the country benefits at no cost. Everywhere in the world, most kinds of law enforcement are undertaken by government.

Parks and open space. Chicago’s lakefront is the city’s greatest asset. For some thirty miles along Lake Michigan, there are parks and beaches owned by the city and protected from private development. If this is the best use of the land, which I firmly believe it is, then why wouldn’t a private landowner use it for the same purposes? After all, we’ve just stipulated that private ownership of an asset ensures that it will be put to its most productive use. If I owned thirty miles of lakefront, why couldn’t I charge bicyclists and roller bladers and picnickers in order to make a healthy profit on my investment? Two reasons: First, it would be a logistical nightmare to patrol such a large area and charge admission. More important, many of the people who value an open lakefront don’t actually use it. They may enjoy the view from the window of a high-rise apartment or as they drive along Lake Shore Drive. A private developer would never collect anything from these people and would therefore undervalue the open space. This is true for many of America’s natural resources. You have probably never been to Prince William Sound in Alaska and may never go there. Yet you almost certainly