‘I Like Self-Fulfilling Prophecies’

Andrey Vorchik studies happiness, delivers popular science lectures, and believes that science should address social issues as well. In an interview for the Young Scientists of HSE University project, he spoke about how emotions influence decision-making, the Bermuda Triangle formed by the bathroom, refrigerator, and bed, and the ideal formula for education.

How I Started in Science

When I was a child, I was fascinated by astronomy. In fact, I still am. I wanted to ask Father Christmas for a telescope, but I was worried that it might be too expensive a gift for him. When I mentioned this to my parents, they said they would buy it for me themselves. That was my first encounter with science.

At both schools I attended, I had excellent teachers who knew how to spark students’ interest in a wide range of subjects, so for a long time I had no clear idea of what I wanted to do. Later, during my undergraduate studies, I met two outstanding lecturers—Alexander Koryagin and Alexey Belyanin—and became deeply interested in the subjects they taught.

Alexander Koryagin’s Philosophy of Science course in my second undergraduate year was a revelation. Most courses are additive: they simply add new material to what you already know. This course was transformative. We discussed how knowledge is possible in the first place, the theories that underpin modern science, how science functions from within, and how different fields of knowledge are interconnected. The course was not particularly long, but it provided a coherent framework for understanding these issues. I was struck by the fact that it was possible to think about life’s most important questions in such a broad and systematic way.

I met my academic supervisor, Alexey Belyanin, during my fourth year as an undergraduate. He taught Behavioural Economics and headed the laboratory that I would later join. I still remember one conversation in which he hinted that research seemed to be my calling. That remark stayed with me.

The Focus of My Research

I am interested in happiness. At first glance, this may not seem like a particularly scientific topic. Scientists often appear reluctant to talk about happiness because it is associated with esotericism and subjective experience.

Yet many disciplines have areas closely related to this subject. In psychology, there are positive psychology, existential psychology, and the psychology of emotions. In economics, there are the economics of happiness and utility theory, since utility is often understood as pleasure or satisfaction. Even so, it seems to me that we tend to beat around the bush without ever directly addressing the questions that people actually care about: What is happiness? Where do emotions come from? What makes us happy? Is it really our goal to be happy? Can we do anything to achieve happiness, or is it simply something that happens to us?

I became interested in happiness and emotions during my second undergraduate year and began writing term papers and my dissertation on these topics. Now, in the third year of my doctoral studies, I continue to explore the same questions.

This Sub-Field of Economics

I examine the problem of happiness and emotions through the lens of behavioural economics. I believe this is the most appropriate field for studying such questions. It is still too early to say what has worked and what has not, as the theory is very much a work in progress. However, the central idea I am trying to convey is that emotions are not merely a by-product of behaviour; they are the most direct mechanism through which we make choices.

Economics has traditionally been built around the narrative that people make decisions rationally. Yet everyone other than economists tends to describe their behaviour in emotional terms: I do this because I like it; because I felt like doing it; because it gives me positive emotions. What I am trying to show my fellow economists is that the supposedly rational choice on which classical economics is founded is, in reality, both a rational and emotional choice. Our rationality does not contradict our emotional nature.

Incidentally, this is hardly a new idea in other disciplines. On this topic, I would recommend Leonard Mlodinow’s excellent popular science book Emotional: How Feelings Shape Our Thinking. It is relatively recent, well written, and available in Russian.

My dissertation is entitled ‘The Role of Emotions in Decision-Making.’ Its main thesis is quite straightforward: I argue that most decisions are made through emotions. Emotions guide our choices, behaviour, and thinking. In most situations, decision-making involves competing desires and motivations, which eventually reach a state of equilibrium, producing a final choice. Only afterwards do we rationalise that decision by supporting it with seemingly objective arguments.

How I Work

My primary method is mathematical modelling. I seek to explain decision-making processes through specialised models that describe human choice and the emotions associated with it. In my research, I build upon the work of the field’s intellectual pioneers, including Daniel Kahneman, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, and Daniel Bernoulli.

For example, Daniel Kahneman introduced the concept of experienced utility. In my view, this idea is only one step away from emotions. In one of his studies, Kahneman demonstrates that it is possible to construct a measure called total experienced utility, calculated as the sum of all utilities experienced by an individual at different moments in time. I believe that the most convincing interpretation of this theory is an emotional one. It is more intuitive and aligns more closely with our everyday experience.

What I Am Proud of

At the International College of Economics and Finance, we have a project called the ICEF Evening School. It is a pre-university programme where recent graduates and current students teach schoolchildren in Years 9–11. I have been coordinating this project for quite a long time, and it has introduced me to a great many friends, acquaintances, and colleagues.

The project is entirely non-profit and relies solely on the intrinsic motivation of people who are genuinely passionate about what they do. One of its greatest strengths is that it allows instructors to experiment with new courses and to teach subjects they are actively working on themselves. We do not award grades, hold examinations, or issue certificates. Our primary goal is to inspire interest and curiosity. To me, this is exactly how both education and academia should be organised.

In my view, science should not exist in isolation. It should create something of value for society. That is why I enjoy giving popular science lectures so much. At one point, I became captivated by Anna Vilenskaya’s lectures on music, and they inspired me to create something similar about economics. Today, this has become a creative outlet for me, because popular science is a far less regulated sphere than the academic research on which it is based.

I believe the only way to engage people is to start with something they already find interesting and connect it to something new. That is why I often take a film or an animated feature and use it to explain various economic, sociological, and political theories. I give lectures roughly once a month at Tsiferblat Anti-Café near Mayakovskaya Square, announce them through my channel, and publish recordings there afterwards.

One of my recent lectures was devoted to Harry Potter. It explored how the novels address xenophobia and the challenge of building an inclusive society—one that serves the interests of everyone: wizards and non-wizards, elves and goblins, centaurs and giants alike. To me, this is one of the central messages that J. K. Rowling conveys throughout the series: Muggles fear wizards, wizards fear Muggles, everyone fears one another, and as a result hatred accumulates and magical wars emerge.

This social dynamic is precisely what I analyse through theories and ideas drawn from psychology, sociology, political science, and economics. It is an attempt to examine a magical world through the lens of non-magical sciences. And, of course, the lecture is not really about Harry Potter—it is about us and the world we live in.

I am not sure whether Rowling herself is familiar with these theories. Her ideas align remarkably well with the social sciences, but that is part of their appeal. Most likely, she grasped these concepts intuitively.

My Favourite Concept

I am particularly fascinated by self-fulfilling prophecies. They may sound like something mystical or esoteric, but they are not, because there is a clear mechanism behind their operation.

How do they work in real life? When we expect something to happen, we begin to behave as though it is already true. For example, if a teacher somehow comes to believe that one student is talented while another is not, they are likely to devote more attention to the first student and less to the second. As a result, the first student may genuinely become more capable than the second. Yet the difference would not be caused by the students themselves, but by the teacher’s expectations.

In Rowling’s novels, it seems to me that the entire story is built around this idea. Consider the prophecy made by Sybill Trelawney, the supposed seer, who foretold the birth of a boy destined to threaten the Dark Lord. That prophecy set in motion a magical civil war. But what if she had predicted that a boy would be born who would become the Dark Lord’s closest friend and eventually transform him into a Light Lord? We do not actually know whether she was a genuine prophet or whether Dumbledore simply believed in her, leading everyone else to do the same. In that case, the conflict might never have occurred at all. It was the self-fulfilling prophecy that brought it into existence.

I think many aspects of international relations work like self-fulfilling prophecies.

What I Dream About

I would like my research to have a tangible impact, including beyond academia.

I do not always understand who academic work is for or why it matters to people outside the field. A paper gets published, written in dense academic language. Who has actually read it? How many people? Often, you never see the results of your work. Citation counts are just numbers. There is no sense that you have spoken to a real person who says, ‘That was great, I enjoyed it.’ Or perhaps they did not enjoy it—in which case you can discuss it, argue about it, exchange views. This is another reason why I enjoy popular science: it provides immediate gratification.

Lately, I have been reading a great deal of popular science literature on physics—works by Stephen Hawking and Thomas Hertog, for example. This has nothing to do with economics, but I enjoy observing how scientific ideas develop. Of course, physics lies at the foundation of everything and is therefore often regarded as especially significant and fundamental. Yet I believe that the social sciences can be just as surprising and fascinating as physics. They are simply not promoted as effectively.

On Interdisciplinary Connections

The sociologist of science Mikhail Sokolov jokes that sociologists do not read economists, political scientists do not read sociologists, and economists do not read anyone at all—so they keep reinventing the wheel. Someone may work in the neighbouring building, on a different faculty, convinced that they study entirely different issues, while in reality they are writing about very similar things, just in a different language. That is why, as an economist, I enjoy venturing into neighbouring disciplines—listening to sociologists, political scientists, psychologists, and philosophers.

There are countless topics that all these disciplines explore simultaneously. Happiness is a perfect example. It lies at the intersection of multiple fields, which is precisely what makes it such an interesting subject to study.

Consider trust as another example. Psychologists would describe trust as an emotion or feeling: if I trust you, I experience a particular psychological state. Economists tend to view trust as a resource that enables organisations to function more efficiently and reduces the costs of interaction between people. Sociologists, meanwhile, often see trust as a value or social attitude that develops historically under the influence of collective experiences and historical events. Yet all of these perspectives concern the same phenomenon—or at least something very close to it. It would be strange to think about trust solely as a resource without also considering its emotional and value-based dimensions.

Incidentally, there is an interesting interdisciplinary book on this subject by Alexey Belyanin and Vladimir Zinchenko entitled Trust in the Economy and Public Life, which is freely available online.

If I Had Not Become a Scholar

I think I would have gone into industry. Yet, for some reason, I do not believe I would have enjoyed it very much.

For a long time, before I encountered philosophy during my undergraduate studies, I had no sense that anything particularly interesting awaited me in life. I think I was weighed down by external expectations and rules. School was preparation for a bachelor’s degree, a bachelor’s degree was preparation for a master’s degree, a master’s degree was preparation for work, and work was preparation for retirement. But where was life itself in that equation? I could never seem to escape that logic. Fortunately, the darkness eventually lifted.

Who I Would Like to Meet

My friends who have moved across Europe and Asia. At the moment, that is my most pressing wish.

My Ordinary Day

One of the great attractions of academic freedom is that you can wake up whenever you like. I get up, have breakfast, and, if I have classes to teach, I teach them. If I do not have classes, I go somewhere to work on an article—either developing ideas for one or actually writing it. That place is usually neither my home nor the university. At home there is a Bermuda Triangle consisting of the refrigerator, the bath, and the bed, and it is very easy to get lost there. At the university there are colleagues, friends, and students, which makes concentrated work equally difficult. So, I usually spend the day in a café, working from morning until evening. Afterwards, I go for a walk around the city or meet up with friends or family.

Do I Experience Burnout?

Yes, I do. A particularly severe period came during the first half of last year, when I was teaching a very large number of classes. At some point I realised that I had stopped reflecting on them altogether, and by the end of the semester I began experiencing health problems. That experience taught me how to say no to work. Surprisingly, that became a very positive feeling. It frees up time and allows you to become more aware of what is actually happening in your life. I still teach, but I am gradually trying to reshape my portfolio of courses so that it aligns more closely with my interests and research agenda.

My Hobbies

I love the theatre, particularly the Vakhtangov Theatre and the Satire Theatre. At the latter, my favourite production is Pygmalion. Incidentally, it also contains an example of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Eliza says: ‘I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl, and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me as a lady, and always will.’

During a family trip to St Petersburg, we also attended a performance of The Seagull at the Academic Maly Drama Theatre. It is a much more intimate venue, but it was a wonderful experience.

I am also very fond of films, including those that become the basis for my lectures. One example is The Grand Budapest Hotel. My lecture on the film focused on motivation and trust. It explored the idea that we can treat our lives and other people either as means to achieve certain goals or as things that possess intrinsic value in themselves. In the long run, the latter approach turns out to be not only more effective but also more conducive to happiness.

Students at HSE University often view life as a survival challenge. When I ask them how they are doing, they frequently reply, ‘We’re fine—just surviving.’ Yet life can also be seen as a project or an adventure. It is possible to appreciate and find meaning in what is happening here and now. Unfortunately, intrinsic motivation for studying and working is often crowded out by routine and an endless stream of external requirements that people feel obliged to satisfy. In fact, I have written an article on this very topic entitled ‘The Riddle of Intrinsic Motivation.’

The same logic can be applied to human relationships. We can interact with another person as an individual who possesses intrinsic value. This approach fosters trust: if I am not using you and you are not using me, a trusting relationship can emerge between us. Alternatively, I can view you as a resource, valuing not you as a person but what you can offer me. That approach rarely ends well. People tend to recognise when they are being used, and they generally dislike it. Of course, treating others instrumentally can produce quick results, but only in the short term.

The ideal situation is one in which effectiveness exists without any sense of conflict. To me, this idea is beautifully illustrated in The Grand Budapest Hotel.

The Last Film I Watched

The psychological thriller Passengers, starring Jennifer Lawrence and Chris Pratt. I am not yet sure what kind of lecture it might inspire, but I am certain that something will come of it.

On TED Talks

It is a challenging format. Recently, I watched a TED Talk by Steven Pinker, a Canadian-American scientist and populariser of science specialising in experimental psychology, psycholinguistics, and cognitive science. The lecture was dedicated to the concept of common knowledge. Steven Pinker is usually an excellent speaker, but, in this case, he seemed constrained by the famous red circle on the stage and was visibly nervous—perhaps worried about fitting everything into fifteen minutes. As a result, he looked more like a student defending a term paper at the front of a classroom than a seasoned public intellectual. I would not want to find myself in that situation.

If I were to give a short talk myself, it would probably be about different worldviews and how they influence trust between people. What I mean is that people perceive relationships in fundamentally different ways: as a positive-sum game, a zero-sum game, or even as a conflict. And once again, the idea of the self-fulfilling prophecy appears. If I believe that the world is fundamentally conflictual, then I am likely to behave in ways that create conflict. Reflection and self-awareness help us avoid these traps. In fact, many of the theories I study in my research also prove useful in everyday life.

Advice for Early-Career Researchers

Think big. Do not confine yourself to a single field. I cannot guarantee that this is the most effective strategy from a conventional career perspective—I am still testing it myself—but it is certainly the most interesting one.

Work on what feels meaningful, necessary, and genuinely engaging. Talk to colleagues, discuss your research, and share your ideas. For example, a little over a year ago, at a conference at Moscow State University, I met my friend and fellow HSE researcher Artur Musaev. Since then, we have co-authored a paper and exchanged countless ideas on a wide range of topics, which has been immensely valuable. We are now planning a podcast about the social sciences.

Create the right environment for yourself. Find a laboratory, a supervisor, and opportunities to attend conferences in person. Deliberately cultivate the feeling that your work matters to someone. In a sense, it is a form of self-deception—but one that ultimately works as a self-fulfilling prophecy. Fake it till you make it.

My Favourite Place in Moscow

My favourite place in Moscow is the Muzeon Park of Arts. It is a place of calm and tranquillity. I enjoy walking there and looking at the fountains opposite the State Tretyakov Gallery.