Cross-posted from my blog.
Contrary to my carefully crafted brand as a weak nerd, I go to a local CrossFit gym a few times a week. Every year, the gym raises funds for a scholarship for teens from lower-income families to attend their summer camp program. I don’t know how many Crossfit-interested low-income teens there are in my small town, but I’ll guess there are perhaps 2 of them who would benefit from the scholarship. After all, CrossFit is pretty niche, and the town is small.
Helping youngsters get swole in the Pacific Northwest is not exactly as cost-effective as preventing malaria in Malawi. But I notice I feel drawn to supporting the scholarship anyway. Every time it pops in my head I think, “My money could fully solve this problem”. The camp only costs a few hundred dollars per kid and if there are just 2 kids who need support, I could give $500 and there would no longer be teenagers in my town who want to go to a CrossFit summer camp but can’t. Thanks to me, the hero, this problem would be entirely solved. 100%.
That is not how most nonprofit work feels to me.
You are only ever making small dents in important problems
I want to work on big problems. Global poverty. Malaria. Everyone not suddenly dying. But if I’m honest, what I really want is to solve those problems. Me, personally, solve them. This is a continued source of frustration and sadness because I absolutely cannot solve those problems.
Consider what else my $500 CrossFit scholarship might do:
* I want to save lives, and USAID suddenly stops giving $7 billion a year to PEPFAR. So I give $500 to the Rapid Response Fund. My donation solves 0.000001% of the problem and I feel like I have failed.
* I want to solve climate change, and getting to net zero will require stopping or removing emissions of 1,500 billion tons of carbon dioxide. I give $500 to a policy nonprofit that reduces emissions, in expectation, by 50 tons. My donation solves 0.000000003% of the problem and I feel like I have f
I think this is a good point, predictably enough--I touch on it in my comment on C/H/M's original post--but thanks for elaborating on it!
For what it's worth, I would say that historically, it seems to me that the introduction of new goods has significantly mitigated but not overturned the tendency for consumption increases to lower the marginal utility of consumption. So my central guess is (a) that in the event of a growth acceleration (AI-induced or otherwise), the marginal utility of consumption would in fact fall, and more relevantly (b) that most investors anticipating an AI-induced acceleration to their own consumption growth would expect their marginal utility of consumption to fall. So I think this point identifies a weakness in the argument of the paper/post (as originally written; they now caveat it with this point)--a reason why you can't literally infer investors' beliefs about AGI purely from interest rates--but doesn't in isolation refute the point that a low interest rate is evidence that most investors don't anticipate AGI soon.
I feel like a real economist now — I’ve got my first referee report to read the prior literature :)
My gut feeling is that it will increase, because it might lead to an increase in lifespan. That’s so far beyond what we can do now that I think marginal utility goes up.
Depends how much it costs to lengthen life, and how much more the second added century costs than the first, and what people’s discount rates are… but yes, agreed that allowing for increased lifespan is one way the marginal utility of consumption could really rise!