Actually, inspired by Ulysses, in the fields of mental health and addiction there is growing interest in what are called 'Ulysses contracts'. Basically, these are contracts instructing others to force one to do or refrain from doing something regardless of one’s anticipated resistance. For instance, you might sign a contract agreeing to institutionalisation if you go off your meds, or you might sign a contract barring you from entry to a casino. They're a fascinating - if extremely legally fraught - area, primarily because they are very difficult to legally enforce.
The core problem is actually illustrated by Thomas De Quincey's *Confessions of An Opium Eater*, when he describes the efforts of his contemporary, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (De Quincey's core frenemy), to overcome his 'vassalage to opium' through precisely this type of self-binding. According to De Quincey:
"Coleridge hired porters for the express purpose of barring his entrance to any drug store
in order to procure opium, which would lead to the following rather extraordinary scenes:
‘Oh, sir,’ would plead the suppliant porter – suppliant, yet semi-imperative (for
equally if he did, and if he did not, show fight, the poor man’s daily 5s. seemed
endangered) – ‘really you must not; consider, sir, your wife, and—
Transcendental Philosopher: ‘Wife! what wife? I have no wife’.
Porter: ‘But, really now, you must not, sir. Didn’t you say no longer ago than
yesterday—’
Transcend. Philos.: ‘Pooh, pooh! Yesterday is a long time ago. Are you aware,
my man, that people are known to have dropped down dead from timely want of
opium?’
Porter: ‘Ay, but you tell’t me not to hearken—’
Transcend. Philos.: ‘Oh, nonsense. An emergency, a shocking emergency, has
arisen—quite unlooked for. No matter what I told you in times long past. That
which I now tell you, is—that, if you don’t remove that arm of yours from the
doorway of this most respectable druggist, I shall have a good ground of action
Fascinating. A much lighter and more general version of this is sometimes called a commitment device. You could, for instance, have a pushup challenge with a friend—a hundred pushups a day for thirty days. Before the challenge begins, you set a penalty for failing to follow through, say, donating money to an organization you loathe. You establish the negative incentive beforehand so if you're tempted to quit in the moment, you've got reason to push through regardless. I've read of writers who have done this with words per day. Dip below the line and you literally pay for slacking off.
Yes, as you note, that's basically the same thing, except that Ulysses contracts (they're also called Odysseus pacts in the literature) are a way to try and formalise these arrangements and make them legally binding. In one case discussed by the economist Thomas Schelling in his book *Choice Over Time*, a physician with a cocaine addiction addressed a letter to the State Board of Medical Examiners confessing that he had administered cocaine to himself and requesting that his license to practice be revoked. This letter was to be posted in the event he fell back into the addiction. (Apparently he didn't...)
Thanks, Joel! I hadn’t heard of Duckworth’s new book, and I appreciate your interaction with it here.
It just came out last month. It's a pretty quick read, but full of useful insight.
Actually, inspired by Ulysses, in the fields of mental health and addiction there is growing interest in what are called 'Ulysses contracts'. Basically, these are contracts instructing others to force one to do or refrain from doing something regardless of one’s anticipated resistance. For instance, you might sign a contract agreeing to institutionalisation if you go off your meds, or you might sign a contract barring you from entry to a casino. They're a fascinating - if extremely legally fraught - area, primarily because they are very difficult to legally enforce.
The core problem is actually illustrated by Thomas De Quincey's *Confessions of An Opium Eater*, when he describes the efforts of his contemporary, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (De Quincey's core frenemy), to overcome his 'vassalage to opium' through precisely this type of self-binding. According to De Quincey:
"Coleridge hired porters for the express purpose of barring his entrance to any drug store
in order to procure opium, which would lead to the following rather extraordinary scenes:
‘Oh, sir,’ would plead the suppliant porter – suppliant, yet semi-imperative (for
equally if he did, and if he did not, show fight, the poor man’s daily 5s. seemed
endangered) – ‘really you must not; consider, sir, your wife, and—
Transcendental Philosopher: ‘Wife! what wife? I have no wife’.
Porter: ‘But, really now, you must not, sir. Didn’t you say no longer ago than
yesterday—’
Transcend. Philos.: ‘Pooh, pooh! Yesterday is a long time ago. Are you aware,
my man, that people are known to have dropped down dead from timely want of
opium?’
Porter: ‘Ay, but you tell’t me not to hearken—’
Transcend. Philos.: ‘Oh, nonsense. An emergency, a shocking emergency, has
arisen—quite unlooked for. No matter what I told you in times long past. That
which I now tell you, is—that, if you don’t remove that arm of yours from the
doorway of this most respectable druggist, I shall have a good ground of action
against you for assault and battery".
Fascinating. A much lighter and more general version of this is sometimes called a commitment device. You could, for instance, have a pushup challenge with a friend—a hundred pushups a day for thirty days. Before the challenge begins, you set a penalty for failing to follow through, say, donating money to an organization you loathe. You establish the negative incentive beforehand so if you're tempted to quit in the moment, you've got reason to push through regardless. I've read of writers who have done this with words per day. Dip below the line and you literally pay for slacking off.
Yes, as you note, that's basically the same thing, except that Ulysses contracts (they're also called Odysseus pacts in the literature) are a way to try and formalise these arrangements and make them legally binding. In one case discussed by the economist Thomas Schelling in his book *Choice Over Time*, a physician with a cocaine addiction addressed a letter to the State Board of Medical Examiners confessing that he had administered cocaine to himself and requesting that his license to practice be revoked. This letter was to be posted in the event he fell back into the addiction. (Apparently he didn't...)