

Why learn parliamentary procedure? The arcane set of rules by a long-lost guy named Robert seem destined for contentious planning commission meetings–but why worry beyond local political squabbling? Consider two examples that should cover both sides of the room: College football’s Bowl Championship Series (BCS), and the Nobel Prize for Literature.
First, let’s recognize that college football is a cartel. An article in the Journal of Industrial Organization tests this hypothesis, concludes
enforced restrictions inhibit weak teams from improving, and protect strong teams from competition. A stratification is implied which should be evident over time as less churning in national rankings and conference standings, and fewer schools achieving national prominence.
But Doug Geyser at Stanford argues that rankings matter most in basketball, and where they are underestimated in football
I find that national rankings are efficiently incorporated into the point spread for college basketball; however, for college football, I find that bettors do not place enough emphasis on national rankings. Instead, my results suggest that a market inefficiency exists in the college football betting market because the higher ranked team is significantly more likely to beat the spread when controlling for the favorite/longshot distinction, and thus expert opinion does matter.
The problem here is that the BCS, a system designed to create a surrogate national championship (at least for the teams in the system). It has been disputed and debated for a while (See the 1998 conundrum for starters.) As Bomani Jones writes in ESPN.com, the BCS’s efforts to chose a winner is merit-based, but the rest is business as usual. Schools like Notre Dame can survive by “simply being very good” while Fresno State (or BYU) would have to go undefeated and perform at an above average level to get into a BCS bowl.
The problems of the BCS are bigger than the ones seen when there is only one undefeated team or more than two. The system still doesn’t have an efficient way to make sure that the eight best teams in the country play in the bowl season’s centerpiece. It does nothing to clear up logjams at the top, and can be downright shameless about how it treats teams toward its bottom. Great seasons can still be ignored in deference to the old-money programs and the thinly veiled goal of the BCS: profit maximization.
This year is filled with disputes, like previous ones–but in this Utah is, (was in the case of BYU) undefeated. Looking at statistics is a helpful approach, necessary but not sufficient–because the BCS includes the more subjective voting/ranking
You would think that in the high-minded case of literature, it would necessarily follow that politics would be minimal and ‘great works’ of art would rise to the top. Not so, according to Charles McGrath:
Critics are always pointing out that the list of writers who never won, which includes Tolstoy, Proust, Borges, Joyce, Nabokov and Auden, is far more impressive than the roster of those who did. The duds include Henryk Sienkiewicz (1905), author of “Quo Vadis,” and Mikhail Sholokhov (1965), whose supposed masterpiece, “And Quiet Flows the Don,” was probably plagiarized (at least according to Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, who won five years later).
So how does the system work? Explain the rules:
There are 18 Nobel judges, of whom Mr. Engdahl is one. They’re all Swedes, they serve for life, and in the early years of the prize they tended to vote for — surprise! — other Scandinavians, writers like Bjornstjerne Bjornson, Selma Lagerlof and Henrik Pontoppidan, who were not exactly household names even back then. There used to be a weakness for middlebrow writers like Pearl Buck and John Steinbeck, who championed the downtrodden. But ever since the last American to win, Toni Morrison, took the prize in 1993, there has been a drift not just to the left but away from the conventions of narrative realism. … This is not to say that the Swedish Academy is a united front or that when it sits down for the “big dialogue” there is no conflict of interest. The Chilean poet Pablo Neruda didn’t win the Nobel until his Swedish translator, Artur Lundkvist, was elected to the academy and lobbied for him. (Mr. Lundkvist also blackballed Graham Greene, whose politics were almost as left as Mr. Neruda’s. Go figure.) Mr. Gao’s Swedish translator, Goran Malmqvist, a China scholar at the University of Stockholm and, conveniently, an academy member, similarly pressed his case. On the other hand, a member named Knut Ahnlund quit in 2004 over the award to Ms. Jelinek, a feminist, whose work he called a “mass of text shoveled together without artistic structure.” There was also an internal squabble over whether the body as a whole should denounce the fatwa issued against Salman Rushdie in 1989.
In other words, the composition of the group is tilted, as is the decision-making process–against American writers. Now, if you’re keen to agree, that’s fine–and even if you’re not, no problem. The issue here under consideration is not the merit of Roth or Updike, but rather the fact that (sociologists take note) the structure of the committee will create a particular outcome–in this case, unfavorable for US authors. (Great literature happens elsewhere, America.)
Bottom line: Rules and proceedures matter, and the person who masters them (BCS administrators and affiliated league coaches, or Swedish judges and their revered authors) will have a greater degree of power.