The Price of Everything – Eduardo Porter

A little bit late this week – my apologies! Life sometimes gets in the way of the internet, I find.

“Market-transactions do not necessarily provide people with what they want; they provide people with what they think they want… [Prices] provide a road map of people’s psychological quirks, of their fears, their unacknowledged constraints.”

What do religion, happiness, healthcare, women’s rights, culture, and gifts all have in common? For good or for ill, says Eduardo Porter, they all involve prices. In The Price of Everything he covers how these issues and more are affected by the price system, and how people directly and indirectly put prices on everything that we interact with.

The standard criticism of this perspective goes back Oscar Wilde, of course: that people know “the price of everything and the value of nothing.” Porter argues that this can actually be a strength: prices may have little to do with what is good for people, but they can tell us what they believe or what they are willing to pay for. Many of our everyday values can be captured by the implicit prices we assign them, and even when prices are inefficient or incorrect, they still tell us what the people involved in the transaction believe.

An iphone app entitled “I am Rich” (now taken down) did nothing but flash a red gem on the screen, and retailed for $999, providing a price on status. Organs in Iran go for $1,200. Monogamy, he argues, spread largely as a result of an increased price on social cohesion, while animal rights movements are more common in the developed world because humane actions cost more in developing countries. All of these prices may be interesting, but unfortunately though his arguments have some merit, they feel incomplete. Few of us would agree, for example, that the Protestant Reformation occurred because the Catholic Church wasn’t giving good value for money.

Porter’s knowledge is broad, and unfortunately as a result the book can feel like a literature review that brushes over the material instead of providing insight. A chapter per subject, when the subjects are as vast as happiness, culture, and religion, means the book sometimes reads like a list of facts. I would enjoy a chapter here and a chapter there, but reading it cover to cover can be a a bit dry. In the end, though I enjoyed the brief anecdotes, I would have preferred a book that engaged with the material, rather than listed it. That said, though I can’t tell you the price of everything, I can admit I only paid £2 for the book.

Want more about the price of religion? Keep reading (or in the UK or Canada). Or, join the Subtle Illumination email list to your right!