November 23, 2006

Dear Colleague:

    A recent issue of the New Yorker has a long article on "Lagos—the Mega-City." It tells the depressing story of a city that has become bloated in size and largely dysfunctional. Dysfunctional, did I say? Surely not, for one can say, with equal plausibility, that the city bursts at the seams with individual initiative and entrepreneurial elan, and that nowhere is this gung-ho spirit to succeed more in evidence than at the sclerotic joints in the arteries of transportation. Wherever traffic comes to a crawl—or better, wherever it comes to a stop—swarms of vendors ply their trade, thrusting their goods, which range from ladies shoes to computer parts, at the stalled passengers. The vendors work for a boss, who supplies the wherewithal to acquire the merchandise. Merchandise, did I say? Well, in a manner of speaking, for much of the merchandise consists of items taken from the mountainous garbage dumps. The author of the New Yorker article says that the economic system at Lagos reminds him of Fagin and his thieving boys in Oliver Twist. The boys have to be highly motivated and ingenious to survive. They worked against each other. It was individualism run amok. In Lagos, individualism is carried to such an extreme that whereas petty crimes do occur, the Mafia type of organized crime is a rarity.

    My attention turns to Chicago, a city that—for all its problems—does work. There are all kinds of reasons why. At base is the existence of a well of human good will and responsibility from which all Chicagoans draw for their ultimate sense of safety, if not well-being. Let me illustrate with a story that I found in the back pages of the Chicago Tribune (November 12, 2006). Jeffrey Brown got into a cab at Midway Airport. It was late, he was tired, and looked forward to going home. The cab fare was $28.25. "Brown gave the cabbie $40, intending to include an $11.75 tip. He told the driver '$11.' Instead of keeping the $11, the driver gave it back to Brown, and Brown put it in his pocket." Brown got home, slept, and the next morning suddenly realized that he tipped his driver only 75 cents! He felt terrible when he remembered how the driver had helped him with the luggage. He spent hours dialing "help" numbers and transportation bureaus in Chicago, trying to locate the driver and finally succeeded. He called the driver and said that a tip of $22 was in the mail. The driver said that Brown shouldn't have bothered. After all, he did pay the full fare. Now, the question you want to know is, how did Brown know where to begin his search? For he didn't have the driver's name and couldn't recall even the name of the taxi company. He did remember, however, the cab's number, which was 1336. He remembered it because, several years ago, he left his wallet in another Chicago taxi. The driver of that cab called Brown and returned the wallet, with the advice, "Always remember the cab's number. When you lose something, you can use the number to track him down."

    So what's going on here? A cab driver who returns wallets and offers advice. A client who goes out of his way to give a tip that he feels is only fair. How common are these acts of courtesy in Chicago? How much of human goodness is needed for any society to not only survive but flourish? I bet social scientists don't have a clue—and don't simply assume that Darwin's theory will somehow provide an answer.

Best wishes,

Yi-Fu