Sunday, May 23, 2010

Mad Social Science


The economics of choice in social situations have always fascinated me, and I spent most of my life since I was 15 resisting (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) the urge to use them to further my own diabolical means. One way my empirical observations of social interaction have helped me were with family home evening groups in my church. It's a relatively small social setting of about 10-15 people, and it was my job to have them meet and have a good time every week. It was a blast trying to meld my group of friends together, balancing the need to include everyone, solidify individual relationships, and break various barriers. I figure I use my powers for good, not evil, right?

My latest attempt was perhaps more an exercise in game theory than mad social science, but nonetheless it has social implications. The concept was born under the name of a "jungle potluck." The idea is simple, a potluck where people vote who can and cannot stay. The problem with a potluck is always the freeloader who brings little. Even when this is harmless lack of time or something, everyone else gets the message that the potluck is not a big deal. This way, however, there is constant pressure to bring better and better food.

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME. The risk of offending people is too high. I think it would work among foodie types, but not with a normal social gathering, but even then it's risky. Just a rotating dinner group is easier for accomplishing the task of assured good food, but lacks the flexibility and dynamic of a potluck. So, I found a compromise, and a simple one at that, a creation I call: The Provo Society of Dining.

The idea is an easy one, and this one I do recommend trying at home. When people join the group, the idea is communicated to them that a high quality of food is expected, and then at each meeting (we do it weekly) contributing members vote on their favorite dish. The winner gets exemption from having to cook next week and his first pick of the left-overs (second place is determined by his first pick). It's a perfect cycle: start with the desire to eat good food, add in some competition, everyone gets even better food and then gets more competitive. Rinse, lather, repeat.

So far our winners have been a Thai curry and a homemade cheesecake, and it hasn't been obvious who the winner is. The food is high caliber and in good supply. I'm interested to see if the food gets better and better or worse and worse as people settle and get into a routine, but so far signs are good that I've created an amazing dinner group: flexible, high-quality, entertaining (because of the competition), non-exclusive, reliable, and with a good distribution of labor. I don't think it would work in a larger setting, because of the classic free-loader (although maybe house wives in church are the most competitive bunch of chefs ever, which would explain why I loved potlucks as a kid).