Sending nudges down the Tube

The Nudge blog is always worth reading for its quirky and thought-provoking content, and a recent post about the influence of the London Tube map on travel decisions caught my eye.  This schematic ‘Beck’ map simplifies the complex web of Tube lines by distorting the distance between, and location of, the stations.  It makes the system easy on the eye, but, as the Nudge blog post points out, can lead to some perverse decisions.  For example, nearly a third of passengers choose to go from Bond Street to Paddington via Notting Hill Gate rather than via Baker Street: the former route looks shorter and quicker on the Beck map, but it actually takes longer and, as a geographical map would quickly show, involves a greater distance and a considerable dog leg.  There are maps on the Nudge blog post if you’re not a Londoner and can’t picture this!

It occurred to me that the Beck map is a pretty good analogy for nudging and choice architecture, and that it flags up an issue that doesn’t get much coverage: the possibility of unintended consequences.  The idea behind choice architecture is that decisions are always influenced by the environment in which they are taken, so it makes sense to ‘design’ that environment so that people make the ‘right’ decisions. And nudging is underpinned by behavioural economics, which argues that for all sorts of reasons putting complex information in front of people does not help them to make rational decisions in their best interests.  Both aspects are captured by the Beck map: it simplifies information about the Tube lines so that people are not confused or unable to find their way; and because of its ubiquity and the fact that users are often underground when using it, it rather than geographical reality is the ‘environment’ in which decisions are taken.

If I’m not stretching the point here, this suggests that, like the Beck map, nudges could have unintended consequences despite their effectiveness in helping people to do what is ultimately the ‘right’ thing. Take for example pensions reform, one of the first and most concrete pieces of nudge policy, and one which will undoubtedly have a significant and widespread impact.  There’s no doubt that in the long term saving for one’s retirement while still earning an income is the ‘right’ thing to do, but that there are all sorts of reasons why we don’t save.  It’s also clear that by playing on the effect of inertia, automatic enrolment in a workplace scheme would help people to make that ‘right’ decision to save while still working. But, as with the journey to Paddington, isn’t there a chance that the choice architecture and simplification involved will lead some people to choose the wrong route to their destination?

As the BBC’s recent Poor Kids programme highlighted, there are millions of people in the UK who are struggling to manage on the money they have.  In this time of austerity, the real incomes of the hardest up are likely to fall further as wages stagnate, benefits are reduced and inflation rises.  Regardless of the future benefits of saving, is ‘losing’ another 4% of salary in pension contributions really in their best interests right now?  Of course they have the option to ‘opt out’ of their workplace pension, and avoid the contributions, but the system is designed precisely on the basis that they are unlikely to do that.

There must be other, and perhaps even better, examples of nudges which are destined to have beneficial effects for most, but turn out to have unintended consequences for some.  But in the rush to embrace them as cheap, light-touch interventions, the fact that there may also be downsides seems to have been ignored. Indeed, the main current of opposition seems to be to the concept of nudging (the idea that it’s another form of nanny state or even that it involves ‘playing with people’s brains’), rather than to specific nudges themselves.

I wrote in an earlier post that nudges are more paracetamol than radiotherapy as far as social ills are concerned.  But even paracetamol can be harmful if you don’t read the packet.

Excluded habits – round 1

Are there any aspects of social policy that cannot be addressed by a behaviour change approach?

The recently established Behavioural Insight Unit – or ‘Nudge Unit’ – is making wide-ranging recommendations about how to improve people’s lives, and its creation seems to represent a shift away from the New Labour approach of addressing the structural causes of social problems. So far, though, none of the issues it has tackled seem as complex or deep-rooted as the problems that were the focus of New Labour’s fairly self-explanatory Social Exclusion Unit, Anti-Social Behaviour Unit, Neighbourhood Renewal Unit, and others. And yet the current governing parties (the Conservatives in particular, with their depiction of ‘Broken Britain’) were not shy about highlighting social problems such as these when in opposition.

The government may have changed during the last year, but the social landscape in the UK has not. So if there has been a shift in approach, it begs the question: can a behavioural strategy which focuses on individuals address the types of social issue highlighted by New Labour’s policy units and the Conservatives’ pre-election rhetoric? Is there anything that can be achieved by behaviour change models in the face of something as complex and deep-seated as social exclusion?

This is a question I’ve begun to consider for the RSA, which through its Social Brain and Connected Communities projects has great interest in the issues of behaviour change and social capital. I’d be really interested to get some comments on this, but my early thoughts are that, yes, there is potential for a behavioural approach to be effective – but it’s not as simple as Nudge.

There are perhaps two fundamental sets of factors behind social exclusion. One is structural: low levels of social capital, high local unemployment, poor transport infrastructure, high turnover and diversity of the local population, fear of crime etc. We obviously can’t ignore or deny the significance of these challenges. But there is also a second set of factors: the behaviour patterns or (for want of more sensitive terms) habits and inertia that are established by exclusion, and make it difficult to escape from that situation. It is this second aspect of exclusion that I think suggests an opportunity for a behaviour change approach.

First, let’s be clear about terminology. By ‘habit’ I mean a pattern of behaviours and attitudes that has become so well established as to be carried out without conscious thought. By ‘inertia’, I mean an inability or unwillingness to change in the face of external pressures or a lack of incentives. It is habits that I want to focus on here, because once they are established they are essentially self-perpetuating and isolated from external pressures, and can therefore be addressed in themselves.

As the Steer report from the RSA’s Social Brain project describes, habits direct most of our decisions and much of our behaviour, for good or for ill. They are driven by the automatic brain system, which works intuitively, instinctively and extremely quickly. Habits can be guided by our controlled brain system, which is where we make conscious, deliberated choices (this is akin to the rational, economic model of behaviour change, or the ‘think’ model). But the controlled brain is slower and weaker than the automatic brain when it comes to decision making, and since the latter has an innate preference for what it already knows, the odds are stacked heavily in favour of automatic continuation of things as usual.

Moreover, trying something different is rewarding at first (specifically, it triggers a pleasant dose of dopamine in the brain), but the novelty and reward quickly wear off after a few iterations, as anyone who has a lapsed gym membership can testify, and the incentive to keep to the new routine is reduced. Habits can also be influenced by the environment in which the automatic decisions are taken (as in the ‘nudge’ model), but again the ingrained nature of the behaviour means the odds are stacked in favour of the existing routine.

Changing habits, then, is very difficult. As the Steer report argues, it requires first a recognition that habit can be guided deliberately, that the environment can have an influence, and that change is initially attractive, but also that each of these is weak and short-lived compared to the brain’s long-term preference for the status quo. Then it requires an approach that takes all this into account.

So what does this mean for social exclusion? Exclusion may be caused by structural factors, and those factors may contribute to its persistence, but while it persists an ‘excluded’ pattern of behaviour and attitudes becomes established and normal – and it is this habitual rut, as much as the external challenges, that prevents people from improving their situation. Whatever the challenges they face, individuals may consciously try to become more socially included, but unless they recognise and understand how their habits work, and in particular appreciate the relative weakness of their controlled brain, their ‘willpower’ will either fail to make a difference or they will give up on it before a difference can be made. And if this happens often enough, they will stop trying.

Likewise a change in the environment, such as an improvement in local transport services or an invitation from a friend to do something different, may not be enough to break the habit if there is no corresponding deliberate effort. Neither ‘nudge’ nor ‘think’ will work on its own; but a combination of the two, and recognition of the need for persistence once the initial reward for novelty has worn off, has a chance of success.

While it is of course important to deal with the structural challenges people face, I think this offers an opening for a behaviour change approach as well. If people are caught in a habitual cycle, and this, alongside unemployment, poor transport and other factors, is what perpetuates their exclusion, they stand a better chance of improving their situation if they recognise their habits for what they are, and understand how these work and can be changed. And if they do succeed in breaking their excluded habits, some may even be able to overcome the structural challenges that caused their exclusion in the first place.

Thoughts on how this might work in practice are for another post, but I think the principle has potential. It may sound naïve or unrealistic, or even callous, to argue for something other than dealing with structural challenges, but I think enabling people who are socially excluded to address and overcome one of the main sets of factors perpetuating their situation is both possible and worthwhile. What do you think?

Also posted at RSA Projects – the link’s on the right.

Shhh – don’t mention the nudges

Nudging, as Jonathan Rowson points out in a recent post on The RSA Projects blog, is already the flavour of the month and looks like being at the top of the menu for the rest of 2011. The government has recently announced that in the coming year we will be ‘nudged’ towards paying our taxes, quitting smoking, insulating our houses and signing up to be an organ donor. The media is lavishing attention on the idea. And the term is gaining such traction that it’s being misapplied to behaviour change measures which are rather more ‘shove’ than ‘nudge’, such as the decision to increase tax on high-strength beer and reduce it on low-alcohol brews.

At the moment, all this publicity and attention seems a bit ironic, given that nudges are meant to be minor interventions which operate unnoticed in the background. It’s perhaps unsurprising, given this is a new idea – in UK policy terms, at least. But for a number of reasons, it risks causing problems in the long run.

First, there’s the point I’ve just made: if nudges are meant to go unnoticed, will they work if we are looking out for them? One of the arguments made in favour of nudges is that they are the antithesis of public approaches to behaviour change, like didactic communication, education and regulation. Apparently, in the past we have ignored, misinterpreted or reacted against these measures. We seem to have an innate antipathy to being told what to do, but because we are not very good at making behavioural choices that are in our best interests for ourselves, we have been making poor decisions in contexts ranging from healthy eating to financial planning.

Nudges are designed to circumvent this active rejection of good advice, and overcome our inability to choose well, by changing the environments in which we make subconscious decisions and thereby influencing our actions. Essentially, they work by making us passive reactors to suggestion rather than active decision makers responding to stimulus.

If nudges are to succeed, then, it’s surely better that we don’t recognise them for what they are and what they are trying to do. Otherwise we might be tempted to ignore or react against them, just as we have with direct communication. HMRC’s plan to nudge people into paying their tax by rewording its tax letters might be more effective if we respond to the suggestive wording without thinking about it than if we are looking out for it when we open the letter. So perhaps they should just go ahead and do it without telling us all about it.

Second, the current focus on nudges attracts the vocal attention of cynics and sceptics, many of whom are arguing that there is something underhand about nudging, that it is just another form of the ‘nanny state’, and/or that it involves ‘playing with people’s brains’. (There’s a wonderful example here, which includes a total misunderstanding of the RSA’s Social Brain project.) It seems to me that much of this criticism stems from a lack of understanding of the idea of ‘choice architecture’ which should underpin nudges – a sensible theory that is not exactly Big Brother and the Thought Police. Still, the negative commentary sounds good, and can’t help.

Third, all this attention risks giving the impression that nudges are the government’s sole response to the problems facing society today. There’s certainly a place for them, but there’s no way they can address deep-seated issues such as obesity, social isolation and binge drinking on their own. They’re more paracetamol than radiotherapy – they might have an impact on the surface and around the edges, but they won’t address the causes of more serious and long-term problems.

I can see why nudges are attractive at the moment – they’re cheap and light-touch, which is just what the government wants. But while they’re useful, they’re clearly not a panacea, and giving the impression that they are risks undermining support for them.

Nudging seems to me to be a good idea, and certainly worth a try. So perhaps the government should stay quiet about what it is planning, and just get on with nudging. If it works, they can tell us all about it afterwards.

Oh, and if I come across another blog post titled ‘Nudge, nudge, wink, wink’ I think I’ll scream!

Also posted at RSA Projects – the link’s on the right.