Sunday, September 26, 2010

Metrics and motivation: Thoughts from two centuries ago (belated Sat. post)

I couldn't begin to tell you how the subject came up, but last night over dinner Dennis mentioned something he'd caught on NPR on his way into the office earlier in the day. I thought it made a great point about metrics and the Law of Unintended Consequences. Australian history among the many nooks/crannies I have yet to explore, I followed up today by shaking down the interwebs a bit. Despite the fact that historians consider the time-period in question to be part of the "modern" era, it was definitely a peek into an alien world. Regardless of the time, however, people will always play to the metrics and game the system whenever possible.

The story dates from the late 1700s and early 1800s, when Britain was using Australia as a dumping ground for its prison population (that population itself a symptom of economic disruption, which is another post for another day). Fairly recently, that process had become somewhat more expensive, what with those pesky colonists in the Thirteen Colonies rebelling and thus closing off what any right-thinking Brit would have considered a natural human landfill. Moreover, it had been a potentially profitable landfill, as prisoners, once landed, could be sold into a form of slavery known as indentured servitude.

Shipping prisoners to Australia, on the other hand, was a more expensive proposition because of the distances involved. Also, the economic dynamic was, broadly speaking, quite different. Although women--prisoners and others who became Australian by circumstance--were put to work in state textile factories, the larger plan was for convicts to become colonists and laborers. Thus, the reward system for the transport system had also been dramatically altered.

The British Government, having better things to do with its money--even when not squabbling with Napoleon--farmed out the transport to the lowest bidders. The result was predictable, culminating in the scandalous arrival of The Second Fleet. By today's humanitarian standards, England had actually progressed remarkably in the previous century. At the opening of the 18th Century, the hanging of brother and sister thieves (Michael and Ann Hammond) was considered unremarkable, despite the fact that they were 7 and 11 years old. The same sensibilities that were ending slavery and the often-horrific "treatment" of mental illness were brought to bear on the treatment of prisoners.

The British Government's initial reaction was less than satisfactory. Those responsible for profiting from death, disease and misery were rarely tried and never convicted. Requiring the contractors to subcontract a surgeon had the predictable results in an age when "doctors" drew far more social and professional respect than "surgeons," whose profession evolved from barbers and limb-amputators.

Mortality rates dropped only with the introduction of independent oversight, regulation, and a most important change in the economic dynamic: Transport contractors were compensated based not on how many convicts were shipped out, but how many arrived alive and fit to work. In other words, the metrics changed, and results followed rather speedily.

Of course, being the cynic I am, I had to wonder how many of the convicts who were delivered had actually been shipped. After all, the British Navy wasn't above "impressing" captured American sailors into their service even when not officially at war. And, in case that smacks too strongly of American moral superiority, look up the history of the term "shanghaied" and be glad you live in this century. If I had to guess, though, I'd say that such chicanery would have been more trouble than it was worth, and that the metric had been chosen rightly.

One other point about motivation that I thought worth sharing comes from a little later on in Australia's colonial history. Very few convicts were ever actually jailed, because the whole point was to make the place turn a profit. And, as people don't labor very well after you hang them, lashing was the proverbial stick. However, much like our penal system, time off for good behavior was the carrot. (At least for men; women could marry their way out of their sentences.) Even among a "criminal" population, carrots proved more effective. Which, personally, I find a hugely encouraging comment about the human race, particularly coming from a time and place that put a much lower price on human life--not to mention its quality.