Fishy economics, Part II

Reader, I had the lamb. (And it was good.)

As most commenters noted, it's not that I have a bias against discounted items per se--in fact, just this past Sunday I noted my delight in bargain-shopping for clothes (and in October offered some tips for successful fashion eBaying). But raw fish priced for quick sale? Hell to the no. I'm not a believer in wasting food, but better that than food wasting me.

The reactions of commenters got to a lot of important points about behavioral economics. One is the issue of risk tolerance. To the extent that a price discount may represent a discount in quality, one might be willing to risk buying the discounted product in the case of, as Alyson put it, "bread, tacos, cheesecake, jeans, cars, etc.", but not raw fish. I'm not so sure I agree with Alyson about the tacos, but then again risk tolerance varies across individuals.

Another point is that price is a marker of quality only insofar as one has no other ability or means to judge quality. If I were a sushi chef myself, and could tell by looking whether a particular piece of fish was good or not, I wouldn't be scared off by the "Sale" sign, or seduced by high prices elsewhere. I'd be able to trust my own senses, and shop for the best quality at the lowest price. This is one of the reasons I'm a good bargain-hunter when it comes to clothes--I know clothes, and can tell if something is well-made or not, and how well it will suit me and my lifestyle. Verena is the only commenter who said she'd have bought the sushi, no question, and Verena has also been to culinary school and might be able to rely on her own knowledge better than the rest of us. (Although that "And maybe invited a bunch of friends ..." addition will make me think twice about sushi night at her place.)

A substitute for direct product knowledge is trust in the vendor. A number of people pointed out that if you trusted the restaurant, you'd feel secure to eat the sushi. This goes both ways. Trust in the vendor mitigates the fear of consuming a bad product, and it also mitigates the fear of overpaying. If, say, I had a mechanic whom I really trusted, and he said that he could offer me a "deal" on replacement parts, I wouldn't be afraid that the low price meant that they were stolen, or substandard, or ancient and rotted or rusted out. Similarly, if an estimate came in higher than I expected, I'd be willing to accept it because I'd know he wasn't cheating me.

I'm not sure if the fact that, as Danielle D. pointed out, "that particular stand marks down the sushi to half price a lot" would increase or decrease my trust in them!

But of course there's another angle, which is that when you buy an item, you aren't just buying the physical thing, but the psychological experience of it. As Alyson pointed out, she enjoys the feeling of victory when she manages to get a good bargain, and Verena enjoys the moral glow that comes with spending her money according to her values. It's pleasant to feel clever and good. It's less pleasant to feel afraid of food poisoning. Even if it turns out half-price sushi is perfectly fine--even if I read up on sanitation laws and convinced myself intellectually that there's no way anyone could get away with selling potentially deadly raw fish--there would be a part of my brain that would remain unconvinced. Humans are very conservative about what we eat, for very good evolutionary reasons that I explained here. So the experience of eating dubious sushi would not be psychologically pleasant, and therefore not worth paying for.

UPDATE: On the topic of disgust, the International Cognition and Culture Institute blog has a good post up about the possibility of a universal Michelin Guide:

The way disgust works means that if Michelin judges have grown up in a western culture, they may be unable to properly appreciate Chinese cuisine. Indeed, there is a Chinese cuisine for Westerners (as there are French cheeses for the rest of the world…). On the other hand, if Michelin choose Chinese judges, the guide may be useless for western people. Therefore, Michelin faces the following question: is a universal Michelin guide possible? Or do we need a Michelin guide of Hong-Kong for Western people, another one for Chinese people, and probably many more guides for each culinary tradition?

Check it out.