Chat with us, powered by LiveChat 3 artical your commend | acewriters

1- i sent file and u have to do After reading the assigned reading below tell about how you cheated in the pastAnd is lying the same as cheating? Is cheating a choice?Be prepared to discuss on Wednesday the 1stRead pages 35 – 61 on cheating.2- just tell me ur commend 3 or 4 sentient3- commend please when u do it send it to me as word document for each like 3 word document

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A Rogue Economist
Explores the Hidden
Side of Everything
Revised and Expanded Edition
Steven D. Levitt
Stephen J. Dubner
In which the origins of this book are clarified.
INTRODUCTION: The Hidden Side of Everything
In which the book’s central idea is set forth: namely, if morality represents how people would like the world to work, then economics shows
how it actually does work.
Why the conventional wisdom is so often wrong . . . How “experts”—
from criminologists to real-estate agents to political scientists—bend the
facts . . . Why knowing what to measure, and how to measure it, is the key
to understanding modern life . . . What is “freakonomics,” anyway?
1. What Do Schoolteachers and Sumo Wrestlers Have
in Common?
In which we explore the beauty of incentives, as well as their dark
Who cheats? Just about everyone . . . How cheaters cheat, and how to
catch them . . . Stories from an Israeli day-care center . . . The sudden disappearance of seven million American children . . . Cheating schoolteachers
in Chicago . . . Why cheating to lose is worse than cheating to win . . .
Could sumo wrestling, the national sport of Japan, be corrupt? . . . What
the Bagel Man saw: mankind may be more honest than we think.
2. How Is the Ku Klux Klan Like a Group
of Real-Estate Agents?
In which it is argued that nothing is more powerful than information,
especially when its power is abused.
Spilling the Ku Klux Klan’s secrets . . . Why experts of every kind are in
the perfect position to exploit you . . . The antidote to information abuse:
the Internet . . . Why a new car is suddenly worth so much less the moment
it leaves the lot . . . Breaking the real-estate agent code: what “well maintained” really means . . . Is Trent Lott more racist than the average Weakest
Link contestant? . . . What do online daters lie about?
3. Why Do Drug Dealers Still Live with Their Moms?
In which the conventional wisdom is often found to be a web of fabrication, self-interest, and convenience.
Why experts routinely make up statistics; the invention of chronic halitosis . . . How to ask a good question . . . Sudhir Venkatesh’s long, strange
trip into the crack den . . . Life is a tournament . . . Why prostitutes earn
more than architects . . . What a drug dealer, a high-school quarterback,
and an editorial assistant have in common . . . How the invention of crack
cocaine mirrored the invention of nylon stockings . . . Was crack the worst
thing to hit black Americans since Jim Crow?
4. Where Have All the Criminals Gone?
In which the facts of crime are sorted out from the fictions.
What Nicolae Ceauşescu learned—the hard way—about abortion . . .
Why the 1960s was a great time to be a criminal . . . Think the roaring
1990s economy put a crimp on crime? Think again . . . Why capital punishment doesn’t deter criminals . . . Do police actually lower crime rates?
. . . Prisons, prisons everywhere . . . Seeing through the New York City police “miracle” . . . What is a gun, really? . . . Why early crack dealers were
like Microsoft millionaires and later crack dealers were like . . .
The superpredator versus the senior citizen . . . Jane Roe, crime stopper:
how the legalization of abortion changed everything.
5. What Makes a Perfect Parent?
In which we ask, from a variety of angles, a pressing question: do parents really matter?
The conversion of parenting from an art to a science . . . Why parenting
experts like to scare parents to death . . . Which is more dangerous: a gun or
a swimming pool? . . . The economics of fear . . . Obsessive parents and the
nature-nurture quagmire . . . Why a good school isn’t as good as you might
think . . . The black-white test gap and “acting white” . . . Eight things
that make a child do better in school and eight that don’t.
6. Perfect Parenting, Part II; or: Would a
Roshanda by Any Other Name Smell as Sweet?
In which we weigh the importance of a parent’s first official act—naming the baby.
A boy named Winner and his brother, Loser . . . The blackest names
and the whitest names . . . The segregation of culture: why Seinfeld never
made the top fifty among black viewers . . . If you have a really bad name,
should you just change it? . . . High-end names and low-end names (and
how one becomes the other) . . . Britney Spears: a symptom, not a cause . . .
Is Aviva the next Madison? . . . What your parents were telling the world
when they gave you your name.
EPILOGUE: Two Paths to Harvard
In which the dependability of data meets the randomness of life.
Bonus Material Added to the Revised and Expanded
2006 Edition
About the Authors
About the Publisher
In the summer of 2003, the New York Times Magazine sent Stephen J.
Dubner, an author and journalist, to write a profile of Steven D.
Levitt, a heralded young economist at the University of Chicago.
Dubner, who was researching a book about the psychology of
money, had lately been interviewing many economists and found that
they often spoke English as if it were a fourth or fifth language. Levitt,
who had just won the John Bates Clark Medal (a sort of junior Nobel
Prize for young economists), had lately been interviewed by many
journalists and found that their thinking wasn’t very . . . robust, as an
economist might say.
But Levitt decided that Dubner wasn’t a complete idiot. And Dubner found that Levitt wasn’t a human slide rule. The writer was dazzled by the inventiveness of the economist’s work and his knack for
explaining it. Despite Levitt’s elite credentials (Harvard undergrad, a
PhD from MIT, a stack of awards), he approached economics in a notably unorthodox way. He seemed to look at the world not so much as
An Explanatory Note
an academic but as a very smart and curious explorer—a documentary filmmaker, perhaps, or a forensic investigator or a bookie whose
markets ranged from sports to crime to pop culture. He professed little interest in the sort of monetary issues that come to mind when
most people think about economics; he practically blustered with
self-effacement. “I just don’t know very much about the field of economics,” he told Dubner at one point, swiping the hair from his eyes.
“I’m not good at math, I don’t know a lot of econometrics, and I also
don’t know how to do theory. If you ask me about whether the stock
market’s going to go up or down, if you ask me whether the economy’s
going to grow or shrink, if you ask me whether deflation’s good or
bad, if you ask me about taxes—I mean, it would be total fakery if I
said I knew anything about any of those things.”
What interested Levitt were the riddles of everyday life. His investigations were a feast for anyone wanting to know how the world really works. His singular attitude was evoked in Dubner’s resulting
As Levitt sees it, economics is a science with excellent tools for gaining answers but a serious shortage of interesting questions. His particular gift is the ability to ask such questions. For instance: If drug
dealers make so much money, why do they still live with their
mothers? Which is more dangerous, a gun or a swimming pool?
What really caused crime rates to plunge during the past decade?
Do real-estate agents have their clients’ best interests at heart? Why
do black parents give their children names that may hurt their career prospects? Do schoolteachers cheat to meet high-stakes testing
standards? Is sumo wrestling corrupt?
Many people—including a fair number of his peers—might
not recognize Levitt’s work as economics at all. But he has merely
distilled the so-called dismal science to its most primal aim: explaining how people get what they want. Unlike most academics,
An Explanatory Note
he is unafraid of using personal observations and curiosities; he is
also unafraid of anecdote and storytelling (although he is afraid of
calculus). He is an intuitionist. He sifts through a pile of data to
find a story that no one else has found. He figures a way to measure
an effect that veteran economists had declared unmeasurable. His
abiding interests—though he says he has never trafficked in them
himself—are cheating, corruption, and crime.
Levitt’s blazing curiosity also proved attractive to thousands of
New York Times readers. He was beset by questions and queries, riddles and requests—from General Motors and the New York Yankees
and U.S. senators but also from prisoners and parents and a man who
for twenty years had kept precise data on his sales of bagels. A former
Tour de France champion called Levitt to ask his help in proving that
the current Tour is rife with doping; the Central Intelligence Agency
wanted to know how Levitt might use data to catch money launderers
and terrorists.
What they were all responding to was the force of Levitt’s underlying belief: that the modern world, despite a surfeit of obfuscation,
complication, and downright deceit, is not impenetrable, is not unknowable, and—if the right questions are asked—is even more intriguing than we think. All it takes is a new way of looking.
In New York City, the publishers were telling Levitt he should
write a book.
“Write a book?” he said. “I don’t want to write a book.” He already
had a million more riddles to solve than time to solve them. Nor
did he think himself much of a writer. So he said that no, he wasn’t
interested—“unless,” he proposed, “maybe Dubner and I could do it
Collaboration isn’t for everyone. But the two of them—henceforth
known as the two of us—decided to talk things over to see if such a
book might work. We decided it could. We hope you agree.
As we were writing Freakonomics, we had grave doubts that anyone
would actually read it—and we certainly never envisioned the need
for this revised and expanded edition. But we are very happy, and
grateful, to have been wrong.
So why bother with a revised edition?
There are a few reasons. The first is that the world is a living,
breathing, changing thing, whereas a book is not. Once a manuscript
is finished, it sits, dead in the water, for nearly a year until it is made
ready by the publisher for its debut. This doesn’t pose much of a problem if you have written, say, a history of the Third Punic War. But because Freakonomics explores all sorts of modern real-world issues, and
because the modern world tends to change quite fast, we have gone
through the book and made a number of minor updates.
Also, we made some mistakes. It was usually a reader who would
bring a mistake to our attention, and we very much appreciate this
input. Again, most of these changes are quite minor.
P re fa ce to t h e Rev i se d a n d E x pa n d e d Ed i t i o n
The most aggressively revised section of the book is the beginning
of chapter 2, which tells the story of one man’s crusade against the Ku
Klux Klan. Several months after Freakonomics was first published, it
was brought to our attention that this man’s portrayal of his crusade,
and of various other Klan matters, was considerably overstated. (For a
fuller explanation, see an essay called “Hoodwinked?” on page 231.)
As unpleasant as it was to acknowledge this error, and to diminish the
reputation of a man beloved in many quarters, we felt it was important to set straight the historical record.
We have also futzed a bit with the architecture of the book. In the
original version, each chapter was preceded by an excerpt from the
New York Times Magazine profile that one of us (Dubner) wrote about
the other (Levitt), and which led to our collaboration on this book.
Because some readers found these excerpts intrusive (and/or egomaniacal, and/or sycophantic), we have removed them, instead reprinting the complete Times profile in the back of this edition in the
section called “Bonus Material” (page 193). There, it can be easily
skipped over if one so chooses, or read in isolation.
The further bonus material is what accounts for our having
called this edition “expanded” in addition to “revised.” Soon after the
original publication of Freakonomics, in April 2005, we began writing
a monthly column for the New York Times Magazine. We have included in this edition several of these columns, on subjects ranging
from voting behavior to dog poop to the economics of sexual preference.
We have also included a variety of writings from our blog
(—which, like this revised edition,
was not planned. In the beginning, we built a website merely to perform archival and trafficking functions. We blogged reluctantly, tentatively, infrequently. But as the months went on, and as we
discovered an audience of people who had read Freakonomics and
P re fa ce to t h e Rev i se d a n d E x pa n d e d Ed i t i o n
were eager to bat its ideas back and forth, we took to it more enthusiastically.
A blog, as it turns out, is an author’s perfect antidote for that sickening feeling of being dead in the water once a manuscript has been
completed. Particularly for a book like this one, a book of ideas, there
is nothing more intoxicating than to be able to extend those ideas, to
continue to refine and challenge and wrestle with them, even as the
world marches on.
The Hidden Side of
Anyone living in the United States in the early 1990s and paying even
a whisper of attention to the nightly news or a daily paper could be
forgiven for having been scared out of his skin.
The culprit was crime. It had been rising relentlessly—a graph
plotting the crime rate in any American city over recent decades
looked like a ski slope in profile—and it seemed now to herald the
end of the world as we knew it. Death by gunfire, intentional and otherwise, had become commonplace. So too had carjacking and crack
dealing, robbery and rape. Violent crime was a gruesome, constant
companion. And things were about to get even worse. Much worse.
All the experts were saying so.
The cause was the so-called superpredator. For a time, he was
everywhere. Glowering from the cover of newsweeklies. Swaggering
his way through foot-thick government reports. He was a scrawny,
big-city teenager with a cheap gun in his hand and nothing in his
heart but ruthlessness. There were thousands out there just like him,
we were told, a generation of killers about to hurl the country into
deepest chaos.
In 1995 the criminologist James Alan Fox wrote a report for the
U.S. attorney general that grimly detailed the coming spike in murders by teenagers. Fox proposed optimistic and pessimistic scenarios.
In the optimistic scenario, he believed, the rate of teen homicides
would rise another 15 percent over the next decade; in the pessimistic
scenario, it would more than double. “The next crime wave will get so
bad,” he said, “that it will make 1995 look like the good old days.”
Other criminologists, political scientists, and similarly learned
forecasters laid out the same horrible future, as did President Clinton.
“We know we’ve got about six years to turn this juvenile crime thing
around,” Clinton said, “or our country is going to be living with
chaos. And my successors will not be giving speeches about the wonderful opportunities of the global economy; they’ll be trying to keep
body and soul together for people on the streets of these cities.” The
smart money was plainly on the criminals.
And then, instead of going up and up and up, crime began to fall.
And fall and fall and fall some more. The crime drop was startling in
several respects. It was ubiquitous, with every category of crime falling
in every part of the country. It was persistent, with incremental decreases year after year. And it was entirely unanticipated—especially
by the very experts who had been predicting the opposite.
The magnitude of the reversal was astounding. The teenage murder rate, instead of rising 100 percent or even 15 percent as James
Alan Fox had warned, fell more than 50 percent within five years. By
2000 the overall murder rate in the United States had dropped to its
lowest level in thirty-five years. So had the rate of just about every
other sort of crime, from assault to car theft.
Even though the experts had failed to anticipate the crime drop—
which was in fact well under way even as they made their horrifying
I n t ro d u c t i o n : Th e H i d d e n S i d e of Eve r y t h i n g
predictions—they now hurried to explain it. Most of their theories
sounded perfectly logical. It was the roaring 1990s economy, they
said, that helped turn back crime. It was the proliferation of gun control laws, they said. It was the sort of innovative policing strategies put
into place in New York City, where murders would fall from 2,262 in
1990 to 540 in 2005.
These theories were not only logical; they were also encouraging,
for they attributed the crime drop to specific and recent human
initiatives. If it was gun control and clever police strategies and betterpaying jobs that quelled crime—well then, the power to stop criminals had been within our reach all along. As it would be the next time,
God forbid, that crime got so bad.
These theories made their way, seemingly without friction, from
the experts’ mouths to journalists’ ears to the public’s mind. In short
course, they became conventional wisdom.
There was only one problem: they weren’t true.
There was another factor, meanwhile, that had greatly contributed
to the massive crime drop of the 1990s. It had taken shape more than
twenty years earlier and concerned a young woman in Dallas named
Norma McCorvey.
Like the proverbial butterfly that flaps its wings on one continent
and eventually causes a hurricane on another, Norma McCorvey dramatically altered the course of events without intending to. All she
had wanted was an abortion. She was a poor, uneducated, unskilled,
alcoholic, drug-using twenty-one-year-old woman who had already
given up two children for adoption and now, in 1970, found herself
pregnant again. But in Texas, as in all but a few states at that time,
abortion was illegal. McCorvey’s cause came to be adopted by people
far more powerful than she. They made her the lead plaintiff in a
class-action lawsuit seeking to legalize abortion. The defendant was
Henry Wade, the Dallas County district attorney. The case ultimately
made it to the U.S. Supreme Court, by which time McCorvey’s name
had been disguised as Jane Roe. On January 22, 1973, the court ruled
in favor of Ms. Roe, allowing legalized abortion throughout the
United States. By this time, of course, it was far too late for Ms.
McCorvey/Roe to have her abortion. She had given birth and put the
child up for adoption. (Years later she would renounce her allegiance
to legalized abortion and become a pro-life activist.)
So how did Roe v. Wade help trigger, a generation later, the greatest
crime drop in recorded history?
As far as crime is concerned, it turns out that not all children are
born equal. Not even close. Decades of studies have shown that a
child born into an adverse family environment is far more likely than
other children to become a criminal. And the millions of women
most likely to have an abortion in the wake of Roe v. Wade—poor, unmarried, and teenage mothers for whom illegal abortions had been
too expensive or too hard to get—were often models of adversity.
They were the very women whose children, if born, would have been
much more likely than average to become criminals. But because of
Roe v. Wade, these children weren’t being born. This power …
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