Category: Quantitative Philosophy

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Blue Collar Cost, Revisited

Market conditions drive pricing. I mean, I’m not an economist, but I feel confident in making this statement. So when I dropped a chunk of change on a water heater replacement/installation last year, I didn’t think much of the exorbitant price. They have the skill set, and while I could probably figure it out myself, I would have had to have contended with numerous auxiliary activities beyond the unit itself: draining, plumbing, water, gas, disposal, permits, etc.. Skills and convenience are why contractors exist, but you pay more, obviously. This is why I had calculated the Blue Collar Cost, to set this expectation:

Blue Collar Cost

I had landed on a price expectation of:

Estimated Materials Cost * Materials Upcharge * Labor Cost = Final Cost

And where Materials Upcharge = 1.45

And where Labor Cost = 4

Using this, I could predict the cost of a professional solution and compare that to what I was willing to learn and attempt on my own. If the final cost of the professional route didn’t invoke vomiting and weeping on my part, then I’d entertain the idea. It has proven to be somewhat reliable.

So when the water heater needed immediate attention, I made an assumption that the cost was in alignment with this formula (due to a lack of puking and weeping), and so I didn’t shop around. But recently I researched the cost of the unit, out of curiosity, and came to the sudden realization that my calculations were out of date, and more in my favor. Pre-COVID, labor costs appear to have been much higher, and despite the years of companies justifying price hikes due to “supply chain issues”, the product markups have dropped as well. Here are the new coefficients:

Materials Upcharge = 1.34

Labor Cost = 2

I admit, I am surprised. It leaves me to ponder the reasoning. Maybe the labor pool in trades has increased in the last 7 years due to skyrocketing tuition, driving down wages. Maybe COVID beefed up factory production and supply chains in response to the disruptions. Maybe more trades business have opened shop, increasing competition. There’s certainly a litany of speculation that I could dive into, but for now, I’m just happy that the skilled labor and appliances I need are dropping in price.

Cf​=Cm​Um​Cl​

–Simon

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AI on Quantitative Philosophy

I scoff at the idea of AI emulating human interaction. I totally get that it has the potential to replace it, but that’s very different. For example, if I need my ego crushed a little bit, I can talk to my old family. Always eager to play devil’s advocate for no reason other than to destroy someone’s ideas or life philosophy, it rarely matters what the topic of conversation is. Insert an opinion and, however grounded in logic it may be, one of them will think furiously for a rebuttal before I’ve even finished speaking. That’s a human experience that AI can’t emulate.

However, once properly instructed, AI can recreate a similar experience. Here’s my example: I asked ChatGPT to evaluate this site’s Quantitative Philosophy section – something I’m rather proud of. Here’s what it had to say:

Your style is less “academic philosophy” and more a systems-oriented observational philosophy focused on everyday modern life, infrastructure, incentives, and material reality—using practical evidence and comparison rather than abstract ideology.

I think it’s the quotations that annoy me. As if to say: “I know you think you’re being clever and all, but your ramblings are based on your own experiences and therefore flawed as objective truths, limiting your philosophy to the material rather than being scalable to the intangible.” It further went on to tell me that I didn’t coin the term.

Fuck you.

I did adjust the settings to be more direct, so I supposed I asked for it.

This part, at least, seems fair:

Amusingly so, in fact, since the entire bases for my “philosophy” was self-identified as satire built upon observed struggles by people to over-quantify the human experience. The big realization here is, therefore, that despite limitless data aggregation, AI still can’t create itself as a human facsimile with all the bizarre mental conditions that doing so would normally include.

I still win, and I managed to do so without causing an emotional meltdown.

Quantitative Philosophy

I wonder if I could also direct it to sound more condescending?

–Simon

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Consumption and Creation

[Note to self: add this to the Quantitative Philosophy Index when it posts]

My personal life philosophy defines an individual’s value on the activities one engages in when in an autonomous state. More simply: what you do with your personal time quantifies your life’s meaningfulness. I don’t see the level of impact itself to be the defining factor, since so few of us are ever granted the circumstances under which to achieve greatness, but that doesn’t preclude us from seeking a virtuous live, even if the tangible results are comparatively minor.

Setting this premise: after a day of my daughter watching anime and binge-eating, I tried to explain that she was, in some non-so-friendly-terms, being a completely self-indulgent and useless sack of loafing teenage flesh. In the aftermath of that conversation, however, I though it more helpful to create some definitions. Here’s how I break them down:

All voluntary human activities fall into one of four categories:

  1. Active Creation (Cra): activities that require direct engagement and production.
  2. Active Consumption (Coa): activities that involve using someone else’s creation, but still require direct engagement.
  3. Passive Creation (Crp): activities that are either a secondary component of active creation, or prerequisites/maintenance activities to support active creation.
  4. Passive Consumption (Cop): activities that involve using someone else’s creation in a manner that is strictly self-indulgent.

These activities are not equal in value. Cra is the highest, with Coa and Crp secondary, and with Cop the least.

Creation/Consumption vs Active/Passive graph

As an example, washing dishes and doing some reading rank above watching TV all day, but rank below cooking dinner. Coa and Crp ultimately support Cra – without which Cra couldn’t take place, while Cop remains generally nonconstructive outside some mental health benefits. Obviously these baselines require some interpretation. I’d consider reading a classic novel to be Coa but reading a trashy romance novel Cop – one must be honest with themselves.

This is all fine for abstraction, but let’s quantify. What constitutes a day seized? At what point does one achieve virtue for the day? I’ll assign values:

Cra = 5

Coa = 3

Crp = 3

Cop = 1

This almost works with a Fibonacci sequence. Indeed, Coa and Crp could probably have tier 2 and 3 pointed subsections, but I’ll keep it simpler for the sake of this exercise.

Virtue = Cra + Coa + Crp + Cop

Day’s value = amount of daily virtue.

As for a daily virtue benchmark, here are the highlights from a recent Saturday, which I feel was a notable example of one such virtuous day. I…

Made pizza, made my own cheesey bread, cleaned the kitchen x3, cleaned out the fireplace, started a fire, watched Fallout, took measurements and material inventory for needed house projects.

I’m sure there were more, but these are what I remember. This would come out to:

5+5+3+3+3+3+3+1+3 = 29

It was a busy day, so lets round down to 25 to be more realistic with goals. A virtuous day requires 25 points. For a day off. As for a working day, let’s say 12 – half rounded down.

Now math:

Cra=5,Coa=3,Crp=3,Cop=1

S:=Cra+Coa+Crp+Cop

O = day off

V = day is virtuous

V⟺(O∧S≥25)∨(¬O∧S≥12)

Not having a philosophy background, the concepts of virtue and excellence seem to escape the kid’s comprehension. Maybe this could add context. If not, it’s a good overview and reminder to myself for when I start to feel lazy, now that I’ve thought the concept through. Virtue is universally available. All we have to do is act towards it.

–Simon

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The Decline of Restaurants: An Anecdotal Observation

[Note to self: add this to the Quantitative Philosophy Index when it posts]

Remember those times when eating at restaurants was fun? I had attributed this to a combination of not having to eat mom’s boiled vegetables and not possessing any financial knowledge of a restaurant’s expense. Childhood, in essence, was the best time to eat out at restaurants.

But now, it’s usually disappointing. And there are so many more dining options out there than what was available to me as a kid! There has to be more to it.

So I sat down and compiled an arbitrary list. Here goes:

Given that the experience quality is defined by 5 operators:

  1. (A) Base cost of restaurant food
  2. (B) How much I’m expected to tip
  3. (C) How good I am at cooking
  4. (D) Novelty of eating at a restaurant
  5. (E) Perceived quality of restaurant food

Then:

D+E-(A+B+C) = Quality of the experience.

As these are mostly relative measures, attempts at quantification prove difficult. This approach also fails to represent why restaurants were fun before but suck now. No – a timeline representation is needed for this one:

Now I’ll point out some observations having thought back through this timeline:

  • The novelty of eating at a restaurant started high as a child, then declined as an adult as I could make the personal choice any time I wanted. This trend continued until COVID lockdowns, when the option was taken away, peaking after places began to reopen, following a drop to prior levels.
  • The perceived quality of restaurant food again started high as a child, generally maintained its allure through adulthood, seemed even better when it was less available during lockdowns, then drastically collapsed thereafter, following the industry’s maladaption to post-COVID labor costs and all that it impacts along the way. American businesses never cut profits, so restaurants instead turned to lower quality ingredients and even less-skilled labor.
  • Also, to further counter rising business costs, restaurants raised prices, and very quickly indeed.
  • Then, restaurants and the dining culture turned to collective guilt and overhauled tipping expectations. The tip itself, based on a percent of the meal’s cost, shouldn’t change if the base meal’s cost is increasing to offset overhead. In theory, the workers would see a proportional increase in their compensation as a result. Yet now we’re expected to give them a greater percentage, out of our own pockets. I don’t need guilt added to my dining experience, nor an additional expense to further raise the final expected cost.
  • And all this might be tolerable if I didn’t know how to cook. But I do, and my standards are often higher.

That said, here’s a final observation to further drive home the point: All of these dynamic variables chronologically, mostly, intersected a couple years back, which I’ve visually represented as the “Approximate industry failure point”. This was the moment at which dining out became almost entirely non-viable for me.

Everyone will have their own version of the graph, and perhaps restaurants still make sense to some people. But unless either the quality and novelty of fine dining drastically increase, or costs go way down, I don’t see this industry as a cost-effective source of entertainment for the foreseeable future.

–Simon

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Fingernail Growth Rate and Life Expectancy

“Wow Simon, this is such an enticing title for a blog post!”

“I know, right?!”

Okay chill out. This is indeed mildly interesting, at least to me, because the thought never occurred to actually measure this. That is, until some time following the events of March 17, 2024:

Das blood!

A slipup washing knives, totally unrelated to this being St. Patrick’s day, resulted in 3 stitches.

Ouch!

Here’s a better pic, 4 days later:

Twitches get stitches

The wound, being a clean incision brought to me by alcohol-impairment and fine German steel, closed within 2 weeks. But as my fingernail grew out, I noticed that it had been damaged behind the cuticle. What started as a divet turned into a flaking nail as the damage neared the fingertip.

So much for being a hand model

Eventually though, the damage grew out and was clipped away. And unlike my toe which slid under the bathroom door while exiting the shower some 30 years ago, the growth cells were not permanently rendered incapable of uniform nail growth. Huzzah! At long last, the injury is fully healed.

Except for that small split on the side, which might be permanent. But it’s not very noticeable and the skin doesn’t even have a perceptible scar, or more importantly, lasting numbness (I was worried about that for a while).

So how long did this injury take to completely heal? 181 days! Essentially two full seasons. So back to the original line of thought: what is my nails’ growth rate, and naturally – is that normal? Squander not an opportunity, for I have definitive empirical measurements based on when that crack grew out.

This was a difficult picture to take myself

It would appear that, based on photos of the original injury’s location, that between March 17 and September 14, 15 millimeters’ worth of nail grew out. So if we apply some basic math, that’s…

~2.5mm per month, or…

~0.08mm per day.

Which seems like a long damn time to be catching that cracked nail on things. But is that normal?

According to healthonline.com (seems like a legit website), the average nail grows 3.47mm per month, or “roughly a tenth of a millimeter per day”. My math works out to 0.12mm per day, so they’re using fuzzy math, but whatever. Dear God! My nails are growing at 2/3 the average rate for a healthy human! Do I need more alpha-keratin in my diet?

Okay, so digging deeper reveals that’s a rough estimate and nail growth peaks at age 10. I’m 40, so not exactly in my prime anymore, granted. So that means, if my nail growth indeed peaked at age 10, then for each decade since, my nail growth has decreased by 22.2%, if we’re assuming a linear function, which I can only do with two data points. 66.7/3=22.2.

Now the important question: can I use nail regeneration rate as a benchmark for all my cellular regeneration? And if so, can I use that to predict the point at which I’ll no longer be able to adequately heal – i.e. die?

Let’s try. So for X, when X = current percent rate of nail growth (66.7%)…

And when Y = # of decades passed since X, then…

My predicted rate of cellular regeneration, C, = 100-((X/3)*(1+Y))

Then we see where C falls to zero. Then I can simply narrow it down by dividing (X/3) by 10 to determine degeneration rate per year.

My conclusion: I will die sometime just before my 75th birthday!

Not very encouraging. I think I need more data points. Give me another 10 years and I’ll complete another measurement. I hope the prediction is a little more encouraging, otherwise I’ll be looking at early retirement!

–Simon

P.S., This counts as Quantitative Philosophy!