Deception Protocol Simplified

The Rule of Unintended Consequences

"When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe" — John Muir

Where do we stand when One Man #45, acting as the Manchurian Candidate in North America, affects me here in Europe?

The Law of unintended consequences often cited but rarely defined, is that actions of people—and especially of government—always have effects that are unanticipated or unintended. However, this Law illuminates the unexpected perverse impact of legislation and regulation.

If the statement falls under: The unexpected positive benefit is then also called luck, serendipity, or a windfall.

A perverse effect is contrary to what we initially intended when a proposed solution makes a problem worse.

Robert K. Merton - Sociologist Robert K. Merton popularized this concept in the twentieth century.

In 1936, "The Unanticipated Consequences of Purposive Social Action." Merton tried to apply a systematic analysis to the problem of unintended consequences of deliberate acts intended to cause social change. He emphasized that his term purposive action, "[was exclusive] concerned with 'conduct' as distinct from 'behavior.' That is, with work that involves motives and consequently a choice between various alternatives". Merton's usage included deviations from what Max Weber defined as rational social action: instrumentally rational and valued rationally. Merton also stated that "no blanket statement categorically affirming or denying the practical feasibility of all social planning is warranted."

This Law, according to Shakespeare. When we try to make a single change within a complex system, we often cause unintended consequences. These can be positive or negative. If we don't anticipate unintended consequences, we can't expect to achieve our desired outcomes.

In 1890, a New Yorker named Eugene Schieffelin took his intense love of Shakespeare's Henry VI to the next level.

Most Shakespeare fanatics channel their interest by going to see performances of the plays, meticulously analyzing them, or reading everything they can about the

playwright's life. Schieffelin wanted more; he wanted to look out his window and see the same birds in the sky that Shakespeare had seen.

Inspired by a mention of starlings in Henry VI, Schieffelin released 100 of the non-native birds in Central Park for over two years. (He wasn't acting alone – he had the support of scientists and the American Acclimatization Society.) We can imagine him watching the starlings flutter off into the park and hoping for them to survive and maybe breed, which they did. The birds didn't just survive; they thrived and produced like weeds.

Unfortunately, Schieffelin's plan worked too well. Far, far too well. The starlings multiplied exponentially, spreading across America at an astonishing rate. Today, we don't even know how many live in the U.S., with official estimates ranging from 45 million to 200 million. Most, if not all, of them, are descended from Schieffelin's initial 100 birds. The problem is that as an alien species, the starlings wreak havoc as they introduced them into an ecosystem, they were not naturally part of, and the local species had (and still have) no defense against them.

If you live in an area with a starling population, you are doubtless familiar with the hardy, fearless nature of these birds. They gather in enormous flocks, destroying crops, snatching food supplies from native birds, and scavenging in cities. Starlings now consume millions of dollars' worth of crops each year and cause fatal airplane crashes. Starlings also spread diseases, including e.Coli infections and salmonella.