Artificial economics is almost entirely a political phenomenon, rather than a technologic one like artificial intelligence.  In The Myth of the Robber Barons, Burton W. Folsom, Jr. coined the term "political entrepreneur" in order to describe someone who profits significantly from a public policy agenda.  In today's world, Elon Musk comes to mind.  Designing, producing, and marketing products that enjoy tax-funded purchase subsidies has profited him to a great degree.  He is both brilliant and ambitious.  And Milton Friedman once famously said that if someone offers you free money without any strings attached, you're a fool if you don't take it.

Folsom pointed out that the transcontinental railroad was an early example of political entrepreneurship.  Generous land grants helped pave the way for connecting the East to the West.  Meanwhile, the Burlington-Northern railroad was privately funded and enjoyed much greater reliability with less maintenance.  Go figure.

Lurking behind this practice is the desire of "activist" politicians to (ahem) influence the behavior of the unwashed masses they govern.  Beyond "influence," we are often burdened with being controlled.  And rail transportation fits that situation to a "T."  Amtrak is the epitome of artificial economics: taxpayer-subsidized trains running over tracks already provided by privately owned railroads.  The profit-making railroads are in the lucrative business of shipping freight — that doesn't need to be fed or go to the bathroom.  Since the Panama Canal is too narrow to accommodate modern container ships, a plethora of sea-going containers are being shipped by rail across our continent instead.

Meanwhile, the adherents of artificial economics cling to the myth that rail transport of humans is beneficial due to its assumed efficiency and the pre-determined nature of its destinations.  Automobiles with steering wheels imparted an uncomfortable amount of freedom to the masses. 

Half a century ago, the San Francisco Bay Area inaugurated its Bay Area Rapid Transit system (BART).  Rather than adopt established technologies, BART reinvented mass transit from scratch.  Standard rail gauges weren't good enough — so BART trains had to be custom-made to fit on the new tracks, at significantly greater expense.  Also, the entire system was to be run by a computer.  Train operators were just there to enjoy the view and welcome the passengers on board.  A pesky consequence was that, on occasion, trains would stop under the Bay in the middle of the Tube, and the doors would open for a while.  It was eventually discovered that the software that ran the system required a specific minimum distance between stations — and the distance covered by the Transbay Tube violated this requirement.  Eventually, a bunch of software engineers came to the rescue.

Public transit, in general, relies on artificial economics.  Seldom, if ever, has any system (including BART) recovered to pre-pandemic ridership levels.  Two factors have contributed to this situation: telecommuting and internet enabled efficient ride-sharing (e.g., Uber and Lyft).  Even prior to the pandemic, the S.F. Chronicle declared that BART ridership was declining because Uber and Lyft were both cheaper and more convenient.  Again, go figure.

Without real-world competition, public mass transit might be able to hold onto its client base.  But this is still the real world, and all kinds of folks are trying to invent better mousetraps.

Now, get this: in order to compensate for declining ridership, BART is increasing its fares and reducing its hours of service.  That'll put more butts in the seats.  Right?  Such is a consequence of the artificial economics that comes from working within the vacuum of a monopoly.

Further evidence of this phenomenon is the quest for reparations.  As this is being written, the California reparations commission is presenting its final proposal.  Not only are vast sums to be given to people who were born free because of the immense sacrifices made by young men of European extraction, over 150 years ago.  But no funding source is likely to be identified for such largesse.  Nonetheless, now, with the judicial damage just done to affirmative action, reparations is at least an oblique means of sustaining institutionalized racism.

The government monopoly of "free" K–12 education is yet another example of authoritarian folly within the vacuum.  School choice is now one of the hottest trends in domestic American politics.  Our obviously corrupt political establishment has never exhibited any particular knack for educating young people; it only has the power to tax and thus fund yet another corrupt monopoly.  The choice movement leaves in place the taxing authority — it just allows all schools to compete for that money. 

Government schools actually used to do a fairly good job — myself being an example.  But then something happened.  Devoted, knowledgeable schoolteachers morphed into self-serving union thugs.  The political establishment was elated because the teachers' unions became deep reservoirs of campaign contributions that were not previously available.  And the artificially concocted justification for this catastrophe is that nameless, faceless, and unaccountable bureaucrats are much better suited to place minor children in "factories of destiny" than are their actual parents.  I rest my case.

Image: Simon 1234567 via Pixabay, Pixabay License.