On the Collapse of Social Norms

How do social norms collapse? What if a norm prevents corruption? What if a norm breeds corruption?

I am going to explore these questions in a relatively low-stakes context. My hope is that the somewhat exotic example might offer broader lessons about how good norms disintegrate and how bad ones take their place — and also about how difficult it is to restore good ones.

This is especially true if a norm solves a collective action problem, as many norms, including norms against corruption, tend to do. Bear with the example, if you would?

Once upon a time - maybe from 1980 to 2000, I think, and probably long before - the editors of books would ask experts for “blurbs,” in the form of enthusiastic statements, for public use, about those books. Suppose that John Jones writes a book about Shakespeare. Jones’ editor, Tom Smith, might ask Mary Williams, a Shakespeare expert, for a blurb, and Williams can provide one or not. Jones is not involved.

It’s clean and simple. If Williams says no, Jones is unlikely to know that she said no (unless Smith tells him, which would not be very nice to Williams or to Jones).

All this was the norm. It was honest, and it meant that if Williams said something nice about Jones’ book, it would be because she really liked it. Note that the norm - editors ask, not authors - solves a collective action problem (on which see Edna Ullmann-Margalit’s classic book, The Emergence of Norms). If an author violated the norm in (say) 1985, and asked someone to blurb their book, that author would look like a weirdo, or a jerk, or a wild self-promoter, or a clueless person.

Knowing that that is how they would look, authors usually wouldn’t even think of asking someone for a blurb directly. That would be highly inappropriate. The very thought was essentially unthinkable. (I remember that norm very well.)

Nowadays - and from maybe 2001 to the present, I think - the norm is radically different. Jones, the author of a book, will often ask Williams for a blurb. (“Will you blurb my book? Thanks!”) That is standard practice.

If an author asks someone for a blurb, there is no violation of any taboo. In fact editors will often tell authors: “YOU do the asking! The person is far more likely to say yes if you do!” (I heard that often myself — as in, at least ten times.)

Jones is especially likely to ask if Jones knows Williams. Maybe they are friends. Maybe Jones was Williams’ student. Maybe Jones was Williams’ teacher. Maybe they have lunch every once in a while.

Here is the problem. If Jones asks Williams for a blurb, how can Williams say no?

If she says no, she is giving a signal that she doesn’t like her friend’s book! Or: She is giving a signal that she is too busy to help her friend. A “no” endangers the relationship.

That means that Williams is in an awkward position. She can say “no,” and make Jones sad or mad (or both), or she can say “yes.” If she says yes, it might be because she likes the book (which is fine) or it might be because she doesn’t want to endanger her relationship with Jones. Some of the time, at least, she might say “yes” for the latter reason. That’s corrupt (a strong word, I know, but still).

With the new norm, a blurb on the back of the book is untrustworthy, or of uncertain trustworthiness. If the author asked for it, as authors often do, there is a chance that the person who praised the book didn’t much like the book (or didn’t even read it).

Now we should be careful here. If Williams read Jones’ book, and helped make it better, and really likes the book, and if Jones know that, it’s not so bad if Jones asks Williams for a blurb. If Williams and Jones are close colleagues, and if Jones knows that Williams thinks really well of his work, it’s also not so bad if Jones asks Williams for a blurb.

But current practice is outrunning these cases. It has become standard for authors to ask people directly to blurb their books, even if the people who are asked are not particularly close colleagues, and even if the people who are asked have had no exposure to the book before the request. So the people who are asked sometimes say yes, so as not to derail a friendship or a relationship. (I have seen that happen a lot.)

Okay, okay, this is not the most serious problem that humanity now faces.

But an apparently stable equilibrium, with a good norm, has shifted to another, apparently stable equilibrium, with a bad norm. How on earth did that happen? (Note that I am trying to explore a larger question about the collapse of good norms.)