Philosophy has much to say about this type of distinction, though I doubt I'm the one to say it. Nevertheless...
It seems quite right to distinguish between the normative or prescriptive question of what the ends or even choices of an individual or institution ought to be, and the descriptive question of what, as a matter of fact, they were or are likely to be in a particular case. Moreover, it's important, as the books emphasize, to keep these different questions in mind as one assesses proposals, explanations and theories. I might predict that you will come to financial ruin because of a strong preference (e.g., for expensive wines) which I don't think you should have, or a series of choices (e.g., to invest in junk-bonds) which I don't think you should make. And I might argue that the government should raise taxes even though I predict it won't, and even though I doubt its policy leaders share the crucial assumptions that ground my normative view. So the distinction between normative and the descriptive (or "positive") questions seems important and useful.
What seems suspect is the thought that we can answer descriptive questions without making assumptions about normative ones, and vice versa. This might sometimes be so, but less often, I think, than we might imagine. For one thing, in making a prediction about what will happen we might need to make assumptions about the preferences/goals and decision-making strategies of those involved. And the most tempting way to proceed is to assume that others will think and choose like us, and that we think and choose as we should. Of course, economics is long on attempts precisely not to proceed in this way--to abstain from assuming unrevealed preferences, for example. But it's unclear, to say the least, that this can be done. Moveover, the assumption that individuals are utility maximizers is still at the heart of many descriptive models--and even if(!) we agree that this captures the way we should act, it's pretty clear, as the behavioral economists are showing, that we lapse from it in systematic ways (or that practical rationality involves very, very complex social dimensions).
On the flip side, it seems difficult to approach the normative questions (with which philosophers are more involved) without taking into account facts about the way people actually choose. For example, any account of how we ought to choose that strays massively from the way we actually do choose will, I think, rightly be rejected for that very reason. For another example, the question of what our goals and ends ought to be will, once we've rejected hedonism, take into account the types of things humans tend to do when they are actually living well.
So the normative/descriptive distinction is important in bringing out dimensions that inextricably co-exist in the subject matter of economics (and practical rationality more generally). Or so says this non-economist...
Aristotle argued that it is irrational to want prestige or honor for its own sake. Why? In the Nicomachean Ethics,
Book I, Aristotle asks you to imagine yourself honored by people for
whom you have no respect and who honor you for attributes that you do
not believe are particularly worthwhile (perhaps your fingerprint
pattern (my example, not Aristotle's)). Would you value their honor? No, he predicts, you would disdain it. It would be
worthless, unless perhaps your prestige in their minds gave you power
to do something that you thought was worthwhile. What, then, about power
itself? Is that valuable for its own sake? Well, let’s imagine having
immense power. In particular, let’s imagine that you can make anybody
do anything you want her to do. But let’s imagine also that you can’t
think of anything worthwhile that you want her to do. Is your power of
any value to you in these circumstances? Again, the answer seems to be,
no. Power is valuable only to the extent that it can be used to gain
something else of value.
There could be several different sorts of irrational action. Some actions might be irrational in the strong sense that the actor did not have much approaching a reason for the act. The person might "just be reacting". Another possibility would be actions for which the actor has reasons but for which s'he does not have anything approaching a good reason. In this case, one might act contrary to reason, and such an action might reasonably be called "irrational".
A really good answer to this question would need more context.
October 25, 2005 2 responses Peter Lipton and Amy Kind
Response from Peter Lipton on October 25, 2005
It's not irrational for me to fear that some harm will come to my children, even if I convince myself that if my children are in fact harmed, I won't find out about it. So Larkin was right.
It's irrational to fear what death will feel like if you know it won't feel like anything; but it doesn't follow that it is irrational to fear death. It's not irrational to look forward to the pleasures of living, and if we know that death will take these away, the fear of losing those pleasures doesn't seem irrational either.
Response from Amy Kind on October 26, 2005
The reasoning that in the absence of an afterlife it would be irrational to fear death dates back at least to the ancient Greek philosopher Epicurus, who wrote:
"Accustom yourself to the belief that death is nothing to us.For all good and evil lie in sensation, whereas death is the absence of sensation…Therefore, that most frightful of evils, death, is nothing to us, seeing that when we exist death is not present, and when death is present we do not exist."
There is a good collection of essays edited by John Martin Fischer called The Metaphysics of Death on this subject. Of particular interest to you might be the essay "Death" by Tom Nagel. Nagel argues (along similar lines to those used by Peter Lipton above) that there are things that can harm us (and thus that it would be rational to fear) that occur outside of our experience. Thus the mere fact that death is outside of our experience does not mean that it would be irrational to fear it.
Is this another way of asking whether belief in the existence of God
must be irrational in light of God's intangibility? If so, I would
answer No. There are many things that I cannot touch in whose
existence I believe. For instance, I believe in the existence of Mars,
but I'll never touch it. You might think that's a bad example because,
while I can't actually touch Mars, I could in principle touch it: in
theory, I could build a space ship that will bring me to Mars. God, on
the other hand, seems to be something that I couldn't even in principle
touch: according to many, God simply isn't located anywhere in the
physical universe. But don't we believe in the existence of
intangible things even in that stronger sense of "intangible"? For
instance, most of us believe that the Equator exists, but it's not
tangible (you can't trip over the Equator). Or, to take Richard's example, we all believe that the play A Comedy of Errors
exists, even though it can't be touched, ripped up, or burned. Or
finally, most of us think that numbers (like the number 8) exist
though they don't seem to be at all located in the physical realm. So
if one is irrational to believe in God's existence, that's not because
God
is something intangible.
Or perhaps you meant to be asking whether it's irrational to believe in an intangible God's existence on the basis of no evidence.
If a person thinks the answer to that question is Yes, then God's
intangibility again seems irrelevant: that person would likewise hold
that it's irrational to believe in a tangible object's existence if one had no evidence at all for it. If there is irrationality here, its source is our lack of evidence and not the intangibility of the being that is believed to exist.
It seems quite right to distinguish between the normative or prescriptive question of what the ends or even choices of an individual or institution ought to be, and the descriptive question of what, as a matter of fact, they were or are likely to be in a particular case. Moreover, it's important, as the books emphasize, to keep these different questions in mind as one assesses proposals, explanations and theories. I might predict that you will come to financial ruin because of a strong preference (e.g., for expensive wines) which I don't think you should have, or a series of choices (e.g., to invest in junk-bonds) which I don't think you should make. And I might argue that the government should raise taxes even though I predict it won't, and even though I doubt its policy leaders share the crucial assumptions that ground my normative view. So the distinction between normative and the descriptive (or "positive") questions seems important and useful.
What seems suspect is the thought that we can answer descriptive questions without making assumptions about normative ones, and vice versa. This might sometimes be so, but less often, I think, than we might imagine. For one thing, in making a prediction about what will happen we might need to make assumptions about the preferences/goals and decision-making strategies of those involved. And the most tempting way to proceed is to assume that others will think and choose like us, and that we think and choose as we should. Of course, economics is long on attempts precisely not to proceed in this way--to abstain from assuming unrevealed preferences, for example. But it's unclear, to say the least, that this can be done. Moveover, the assumption that individuals are utility maximizers is still at the heart of many descriptive models--and even if(!) we agree that this captures the way we should act, it's pretty clear, as the behavioral economists are showing, that we lapse from it in systematic ways (or that practical rationality involves very, very complex social dimensions).
On the flip side, it seems difficult to approach the normative questions (with which philosophers are more involved) without taking into account facts about the way people actually choose. For example, any account of how we ought to choose that strays massively from the way we actually do choose will, I think, rightly be rejected for that very reason. For another example, the question of what our goals and ends ought to be will, once we've rejected hedonism, take into account the types of things humans tend to do when they are actually living well.
So the normative/descriptive distinction is important in bringing out dimensions that inextricably co-exist in the subject matter of economics (and practical rationality more generally). Or so says this non-economist...