ECONOMICS: First, Kill the Economists

Foto: Thomas R Malthus
E. Roy Weintraub. ECONOMICS. The reviewer is at the Department of Economics, Duke. University, Durham


The prophet Jeremiah is alive and well and teaching economics at Harvard. It is not often that a scholar with no particular historical or philosophical expertise trashes the Western enlightenment in order to stomp on the discipline of economics as a manifestation of all that was lost in creating the modern world. Stephen A. Marglin's argument in The Dismal Science is that economics--with its focus on an individual's preferences, the freedom to engage in activities to promote his or her well-being, and the pursuit of self-interest variously construed--perverts a natural moral order: 'the foundational assumptions of economics are in my view simply the tacit assumptions of modernity. The centerpiece in both is the rational, calculating, self-interested individual with unlimited wants for whom society is the nation-state.' And what modernity shunned was 'community.'

His main line is that 'The market undermines community because it replaces personal ties of economic necessity by impersonal market transactions.... The ambivalent relationship between noneconomists and economics reflects the ambivalence with which modernity is regarded.' To be sure, sociologists deal with community, as do anthropologists, as do political scientists, and so on. But economics, for Marglin, is different: 'Economics is not only descriptive; it is not only evaluative; it is at the same time constructive--economists seek to fashion a world in the image of economic theory.' Economics and thinking like an economist are bad for the health of the world. Indeed, he closes his volume stating that 'There are many ways of resolving the tensions between individualism and holism, between self-interest and obligation to others, between algorithm and experience, between the claims of various communities on our allegiance, between material prosperity and spiritual health. Economics offers one way, but as presently constituted, economics is hobbled by an ideology in which these tensions are replaced by a set of pseudo-universals about human nature. A dismal science indeed.' The argument about the proper way to do economics is an old one. An 1832 complaint in The Eclectic Review charged the work of Thomas Malthus and David Ricardo with leading the public far from 'the true path of inquiry' and making political economy 'a hideous chain of paradoxes at apparent war with religion and humanity.' In the past century or two, we have heard this lamentation from time to time from both secular and religious figures.

In much of Europe, what we now call economics developed in order to understand various matters of business law, contracts, taxation, international trade, and project management. Issues like tariff policy and currency management were discussed by individuals who were variously lawyers, engineers, politicians, managers, and business people, and training in such expertise developed pari passu.

The professionalization of economics was a late 19th century phenomenon. Cambridge's Alfred Marshall, in attempting to construct a scientific economics, was not able to establish economics as a separate discipline until the death of Henry Sidgwick, the university's professor of moral philosophy, under whose direction lectures in political economy had been organized. In the United States at that time, economics was growing from different sources. One stream followed from individuals who had obtained Ph.D.'s in Germany, where social policy issues--labor unions, socialism, the nascent welfare state, etc.--were galvanizing the universities. But a second stream nurturing the American progressive economists grew from the social gospel movement, which sought to promote the kingdom of God on Earth through enlightened social policy and the kind of market interventions that Adam Smith in fact quite welcomed.

The kind of economics from which Marglin recoils is, however, not of the sort that was present in writings of individuals (e.g., Smith, Ricardo, John Stuart Mill, Marshall, and John Commons) who have been claimed as ancestors by modern economists. It is instead what developed in the post-World War II stabilization of economic discourse and the final professionalization of the discipline. It was during that postwar period, not in the Enlightenment, that economic science became normal in Thomas Kuhn's sense.

Marglin's account appears confused by this history. Moreover, he appears to believe that the ideas he engages and then casts aside (ideas about the economic agent, preferences, equilibrium, models, and markets) all grew up not in the 20th century but hundreds of years earlier--and that those ideas have had stable meanings ever since: 'For four hundred years, economists have been active in the enterprise of constructing the modern economy and society, both by legitimizing the market and by promoting the values, attitudes, and behaviors that make for economic success. No apology is due for this--except for the pretense of scientific detachment and neutrality and the unwillingness to confront the ideological beam in our collective eye.' The ahistoricity of such a statement is startling; for instance, it assumes wrongly that there were individuals called economists 400 years ago and that science in 1600 meant the same thing as it does in 2008.

In his critique, Marglin moves back and forth between moralizing about the loss of community and contempt for the economists' tools and models. He claims, 'By promoting market relationships, economics undermines reciprocity, altruism, and mutual obligation, and therewith the necessity of community. The very foundations of economics, by justifying the expansion of markets, lead inexorably to the weakening of community.' He complains that 'it is difficult to tell a plausible story of how individuals acquire meaningful preferences between consumption today and consumption a decade or two hence, in the way one can imagine learning about peaches today and pears today.' But is not Marglin's Harvard College teaching an instruction of the young designed to shape their preferences, especially preferences about long-term versus short-term goals?

From the first times economic arguments were parsed and markets described, there were those who found both contemptible, and this was well before the Enlightenment. Attacks on money lending at interest go back even earlier than Jesus on the temple steps. Recall Aquinas's ideas about the 'just price.' One mustn't forget Shakespeare's Shylock, either. Tax collecting for kings and emperors requires economic management skills, but no one likes to pay taxes. In a prize-winning book (1), William Coleman showed how over the centuries the very idea of economics has been loathed by left, right, and center; Christian, Jew, and anti-Semite; pope and communist dictator; lawyer and business mogul; and scientist and humanist.

In this same tradition of anti-economics, Marglin sees the future of the field as bleak, with the current generation of economics students avoiding large questions in their search for career advancement. And the problems that economics creates will only get worse, he claims, because globalization will make the national community as obsolete as the market has made the local community.

I note in closing that the lead dust-jacket blurb for this volume was provided by the noted economist and social theorist Bianca Jagger (sic). Whatever was Harvard University Press thinking?" -- E. Roy Weintraub