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sanity,
humanity and science
post-autistic economics
review
Issue no.
17; December 4, 2002
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In this issue:
- Stephen T. Ziliak
Economic History and the Rebirth of Respectable Characters
- Steve Fleetwood
Why Neoclassical Economics Explains Nothing at All
- Tony Aspromourgos
Defining "Economics" Inclusively
-
Yves Gingras
Beautiful Mind, Ugly Deception
- Ingrid Robeyns
In Defence of Amartya Sen
- Robert Scott Gassler
Economics Outside the (Edgeworth) Box
- Comment:
Grischa Periono responds to Wolff
Economic
History and the Rebirth of Respectable Characters
Stephen
T. Ziliak (Georgia Institute of Technology and
Emory University, USA)
How long can irony
and cynicism sustain the economics profession? When will we see the rebirth of the Intellectual, the Social
Activist, and the Teacher as respectable characters in the world of
economics? (Arjo
Klamer, 1990)
I've been asked to name some
contributions that economic history can make to the Post-Autistic Economics
Movement. The occasion made me
think of the questions Arjo Klamer asked in The Making of an Economist (Westview
Press, 1990: 185), his study with David Colander of graduate students at the
universities of Chicago, Columbia, Harvard, MIT, Stanford, and Yale.
I thought of Klamer's question - - how
long till the rebirth? - - because in America, the study of economic history
was killed off with the Intellectual, the Social Activist, and the
Teacher. The timing was ironic. I am not referring to the literal
killings in Paris or Budapest or Mississippi (though the connection is worth
exploring).
The irony is that when Harvard cut a
full-year of history from the core of its graduate program in the 1960s (a
fashion that was completed at most schools, including Chicago, by the
mid-1970s), economic history was simultaneously and radically transforming.1 Historians at Harvard and Purdue were
its prime movers. It was a
fantastic re-invention of the field, and brought - - as such things go in the
human sciences - - a new methodology, a change of guard at the journals, and
a large increase in output, prestige, and resources. In 1993 two inventors of "the
new economic history," Robert Fogel and Douglass North, were awarded the
Nobel Prize. Tragically, many
economists could not say why.
Economic history, then, is in one
story a victim and a failure. As
Deirdre McCloskey put it, the new economic historians had spent most of their
energy explaining to departments of history the "wonderful
usefulness" of economics.2 But they forgot to sell their wares to their own hiring
and curriculum committees--in economics. (McCloskey's article was published in 1976 in the Journal
of Economic Literature. She
tried to stop George Stigler from taking history out of Chicago's
curriculum.) Economic historians
continue to speak in the wonderfully useful language of statistics and
constrained maximization. But to
the Samuelsonians of the Seventies who crafted the curriculum of
micro-macro-and metrics while fetching money to mathematize economics, the
numerate historians' talk of politics, religion, institutions, open fields,
lacks of freedom, legacies of slavery, narrative voice, contested meanings,
census manuscripts, personal diaries, and plantation account books was, to
use a technical term from the sociology of science, "humanities
crap." A real economist was
a Problem Solver, a calculus wonk.
Economic history, then, like foreign
languages and the history of thought,
was killed when the Problem Solvers killed the Intellectual, the
Activist, and the Teacher–“the respectable characters.” It's difficult to imagine a
re-valuation and legitimization of these social roles - - so central to a
post-autistic economics - - without a simultaneous revival of historical
inquiry.
Now it's true that some people, loyal
to the new Chicago School, have called the ahistorical Problem Solver, Robert
Lucas, an intellectual. If you
begin with standard Samuelsonian assumptions, then yes, Lucas is. If an intellectual is someone
fastened to the belief that there is one way of doing "operational"
economics "consistent with" real "science," if an
intellectual (in published work) has read mainly in some corners of
engineering mathematics and rational choice, free market economics, if an
intellectual is a person who does not value social or cultural history as a
mode of economic understanding, if an intellectual is someone unwilling to
argue in his own seminar his privileging of a simple utilitarian social
welfare function (for example, in Iowa City, Iowa, in 1994), then yes, Lucas
is definitely an intellectual.
Similarly, under Samuelsonian assumptions, Robert Barro is a Teacher,
George W. Bush is an Orator, and Gary Becker is a Social Activist (in Tantric
healing).
In other words, one contribution of
history to post-autistic economics is this: valuing economic history for the
serious economics it is (while retaining what it is now perceived to be:
serious history) will hasten to economics the return of the lost and
wandering tribes of respectable characters. (One example of the potential gain can be found in
Nicholas Dawidoff's The Fly Swatter [New York: Random House,
2002]. It's an amazing and sad
story of the great economic historian, Alexander Gerschenkron, who was twice
forced to wander.) A group of French
students in the post-autistic movement have suggested a new curriculum,
setting theirs against present-day Chicago (PAE Review 4, 29 Jan 2000). They propose to put economic history
back in to the core curriculum.
Why should a post-autistic economist
study history? McCloskey's
rubrics from 1976 provide some of the answers:
History
has more facts. When today's economists begin a paper on America's Welfare
Reform Act of 1996 they of course introduce the subject historically. But because they do not collect facts
from history they get the facts wrong.
The Institute for Research on Poverty (IRP), which is meaningful to me
for many reasons, and partly because my brother is a research affiliate with
them, is unfortunately a good example.
The IRP believes that poverty and the collective strategies to
eradicate it began with President Johnson's War on Poverty. (To be fair, some will refer to the
Great Depression. But their data
sets still begin in the 1960s.)
America has had poverty and public assistance since the Elizabethan
Poor Law of 1601.3 In
the late nineteenth century the largest cities abolished "public outdoor
relief"--the tax-financed subsidies in cash and in kind. Abolition was part of the charity
organization movement, a British import that attempted to privatize,
moralize, scientize, localize, and personalize poverty and charity. It's an open secret that the 19th
century experiment inspired today’s Republicans to abolish entitlements. Data on the failed movement are
voluminous and contain evidence relevant to the Act of 1996.4
History
has better facts. Economic historians - - for example, Simon Kuznets, Eli
Heckscher, John R. Commons, Lance Davis, Stanley Engerman, Jeffrey
Williamson, Susan Carter, Richard Sutch, Roger Ransom, William Sundstrom,
Gavin Wright, Warren Whatley, Claudia Goldin, Robert Margo, Emily Mechner,
Elyce Rotella, Lee Craig, Ann Carlos, Dora Costa, Fernand Braudel, Joel
Mokyr, Yasukichi Yasuba, Jean-Laurent Rosenthal, Pierre Bourdieu, Paul Baran,
Paul Sweezy, Nancy Folbre, Kyle Kaufmann, Thomas Weiss, Sam Williamson,
Jeremy Atack, Rick Steckel, John Murray, Joerg Baten, William Collins, George
Selgin, Robert Higgs, Price Fishback, Shawn Kantor, Hugh Rockhoff, Peter
Lindert, Avner Greif, Joan Hannon, Robert Humphreys, George Boyer, Mary MacKinnon,
Timothy Hatton, Cormac O'Grada, Richard Easterlin, Gus Giebelhaus, Metin
Cosgel, Mary Beth Combs, and Santhi Hejeebu - - collect their own facts. You can see that it’s the industry
standard. Laboring in the
archives yields an intimate knowledge of the scope and limitations of facts
collected. Downloading a *.gif
file from www.economagic.com does not.
In our second look at significance testing in the American Economic
Review (this time we examined the 1990s) McCloskey and I found that among
all the subfields of economics, the historians and labor economists pay most
attention to the economic significance of their estimates.
History yields
better theory. What caused the Great
Depression? A Problem Solver in
the mid-1990s put to paper one answer, and gave it to me: "a technology
shock in a real business cycle model." There is in truth little consensus. But Milton Friedman, Anna J.
Schwartz, John Kenneth Galbraith, Peter Temin, Charles P. Kindleberger, Barry
Eichengreen, and many other historians have advanced the theoretical
conversation by insisting their theory connect with actual world events.
History makes
better policy. The history of welfare is a case in
point: "time limits" do not produce self-sufficient wages. But then, most economic policy
is a case in point. "The
competitive supply of professional services in the nineteenth century, it is
said, grievously injured consumers, justifying official cartels of doctors
and undertakers." So
midwifery and home birth have been virtually outlawed in the United
States. "If marijuana were
legally and competitively supplied there would be a huge increase in demand
for it." Hey, I mean, look
at that Robitussin go! "The
United States will not lift the embargo on Cuba," President Bush told a
crowd in Miami in Spring 2002, "because that would make Castro rich and
therefore more difficult to remove." I just got here, you can almost hear him
dreaming. C’mon, America,
give embargoes a chance.
The rhetoric of Problem Solving needs
revising. What is the point of
emphasizing the size of the t-test, or formalizing the set of pooling
equilibria, if history shows that you are solving the wrong problem? A non-experimental science ought to
look at real world experiments when nature coughs them up. For example, economists have much to learn about policy from
East and West Germany by looking at them when they were together, then
separate, then together again.
Likewise in South Africa and in Palestine. The labor economists David Card and Alan Krueger were not the
first to see `natural experiments' in the adoption of minimum wage
legislation; the method is old and historically sound. Still, the laboratory of history is
strangely under-utilized by the Problem Solver.
History
makes better economists. Arjo Klamer and David Colander asked their sample of
graduate students to name the "most respected economists" (p.
42). At every school except
Chicago, at least half the heroes listed (there are no women on the lists)
did their significant work in historical economics: they are Smith, Marx,
Veblen, Keynes, Hicks (part-time), Schumpeter, Myrdal, Polanyi, John Kenneth
Galbraith, and Friedman. And
still others on the list, such as Boulding, Sen, and Stigler, were deeply historical
in the way they conceived of economic problems. Economic history is apparently a major field of
inquiry for the world's most respected economists.
Economic history is
their major field because history offers more facts, better facts, better
theory, and better policy. But
the reasons for bringing history back in exceed those that McCloskey raised against Stigler. Since that time a small but growing
band of economists and historians have allowed discourse, feminism,
postmodernism, and classical rhetoric to affect their work. Like feminist economics and economic
methodology, the conversations of economic history are now more open and
pluralistic. (Easy does it,
Clio: it's not like trade theory but we have a long way to go.) History provides the alternative
stories that give meaning to timeless models and “obvious” nulls. History exposes the contested
meanings of utility, labor, freedom, and justice. History keeps us honest in our assumptions. History connects teachers of
economics to the concerns of the humanities. History connects teachers to the concerns of minority and
international students, and it connects students to the assumptions and the
graphs. For example, when I
introduce undergraduate students to externalities with Upton Sinclair's The
Jungle (1905), or to comparative advantage with Steinbeck's The Grapes
of Wrath (1939), or to labor economics with The Philadelphia Negro
(1899), by W.E.B. Du Bois, it is no surprise that women and students of color
become differently engaged.
How can we bring history back
in? First: realize that Chicago
and Columbia do not set world prices for economic education. But when others think they do,
distortion–autistic economics--emerges.
In fact, in another story, economic history is not dead; it’s already
back in. Today’s core
curriculum at Harvard, MIT, Stanford, Berkeley, and Northwestern University
requires from Ph.D. students a satisfactory grade in a course on economic
history during the first or second year of study. It’s not like Gerschenkron’s Harvard–a full-year of
history--and it’s a lot of micro, macro, and metrics; but clearly, in many of
America’s elite programs, economic history is still inside the core. What can we do? History stays out of the curriculum
when the Problem Solvers say “that’s not what MIT does.” Show the problem solvers that they
are wrong. Let it be known,
moreover, that economic historians are the department chairs at Harvard
(Jeffrey Williamson, 1997-2000), Stanford (Gavin Wright, currently, and for a
second time), MIT (Peter Temin, 1994-1997), Northwestern (Joel Mokyr,
1999-2002), Arizona (Price Fishback, currently), and elsewhere. These
Department Chairs are on your side.
Second. I say we call out the
Chicago-Columbia-Harvard-MIT-Stanford-and Yale Ph.D.s who as students had
spoken honestly with Klamer and Colander and are now writing and teaching as
junior or tenured professors.
It's time they speak up and say who they are.
Of the 212 respondents to Klamer's
and Colander's survey in the late 1980s, 98% said that a study of history was
at least "moderately important" and 68% said that history was of
highest importance (Klamer and Colander 1990, Table 2.1, p. 16). Let me make a plausible out-of-sample
observation. Not long ago a
knowledge of history was ranked by today's professors of economics as being of
highest importance to the skills of a good economist, second in importance
only to mathematics.
(Seventy-three percent [73%] said that mathematics was of highest
importance [p. 16].) If the
respondents have changed their minds, if a knowledge of what Gerschenkron
called "economic backwardness in historical perspective” is not useful,
if a knowledge of the railroads, or the Poor Laws, or the Beveridge Plan, or
the gold standard, or slavery, or Jim Crow, or the East India Company, or
women's suffrage, or public education, or world war, or free immigration, or
markets before central banking is, they believe, no longer important, they
will of course agree to defend their change of mind at next year's ASSA
meetings. These are nameable
professors who could help to rescue the young from the autism of the middle
and to repopulate the world of economics with respectable characters. These professors are acquiring the
power to change the demand curve.
They can refuse to vote for the pseudo-mathematician, famous for
formalizing nothing of consequence.
They can hire economists who care about the world and its many ways of
knowing, and who show it in their teaching and their scholarship. They can fill the pages of economics
with the image they had of themselves when they were happy.
But I am sorry to say with Nike that
an important way to bring history back in lies solely within you--the
obligation to just do it. There
is a simple proposition that clarifies my point. If you are going to change the conversation, you have to
change the conversation.
Inspired by the critical pedagogy of Paulo Freire, the African
American writer and English professor, bell hooks, has made a similar point
in Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom
(1994). On the second day of
classes I discuss with my students her Chapter 10, "Building a Teaching
Community," which is a dialogue with a white male philosopher on the
history and style of power and knowledge in the classroom and how to change
them. Students find the dialogue
to be inspiring (though sometimes unnerving) for claiming their own power,
finding their own voice, in my classroom. Students for a post-autistic economics could take
"education as the practice of freedom" as a second motto, a kind of
just-do-it.
Education as the practice of freedom
means taking graduate courses in history and other historical sciences, such
as philosophy, biology, anthropology, or communication studies, and then
putting your questions to your teacher, your dissertation, and your seminar
speaker. It is simply not true
what department chairs say, and repeat, with liturgical command, "that
there is no time for those courses." Insisting to the young "that
there is no time" is at best an example of blackboard economics (but the
costs are of course higher than that).
Ask, What did Alex do? Your courage to forge your own path will
inspire others to do the same.
Conventional teachers will be angered and embarrassed by their
ignorance and by the fragility of their top-down and consumerist metaphors of
power and knowledge. Who
cares. Science is
criticism. They should learn to
take it. Your teacher of labor
economics may bark you off the podium when you reveal to your classmates the
private fantasies and the racist histories of black people and public
assistance that you found in The Bell Curve. Big deal. How
long should irony and cynicism rule the economics profession?
Notes
1. I thank Deirdre McCloskey and Jeffrey G. Williamson for
helping me to put the economic history requirement in historical
perspective. Errors are my own.
2. Deirdre N. McCloskey,
"Does the Past Have a Useful Economics?" Journal of Economic
Literature (June 1976), 434-61.
Reprinted in R. Whaples and D.C. Betts, eds., Historical
Perspectives on the American Economy (Cambridge University Press, 1995),
Chapter 1, p. 31.
3. S.T. Ziliak and Joan
Underhill Hannon, "Public Assistance: Colonial Times to the
1920s." Forthcoming in S.
Carter, et. al., eds., Historical Statistics of the United States:
Colonial Times to the Present (Cambridge University Press and U.S. Bureau
of the Census).
4. S.T. Ziliak: "The End of
Welfare and the Contradiction of Compassion," The Independent Review
(Spring 1996); "Some Tendencies of Social Welfare and the Problem of
Interpretation," Cato Journal (Winter 2002); "Pauper Fiction
in Economic Science: 'Paupers in Almshouses' and the Odd Fit of Oliver
Twist," Review of Social Economy (June 2002).
_________________
Steve Ziliak teaches economics at the Georgia Institute
of Technology and Emory University.
He is the editor of Measurement
and Meaning in Economics: The Essential Deirdre McCloskey (Edward
Elgar, 2001). In 2002 he was
voted "Faculty Member of the Year" by the Georgia Tech Student
Government Association.
_________________________
SUGGESTED CITATION:
Stephen T. Ziliak, “Economic History and the Rebirth of Respectable
Characters”, post-autistic economics review, issue no. 17,
December 4, 2002, article 1. http://www.btinternet.com/~pae_news/review/issue17.htm
Why
Neoclassical Economics Explains Nothing At All1
Steve Fleetwood (Lancaster University, UK)
Introduction
Critical realists (c.f. Lawson 1998; Fleetwood 1999a&b,
2001a&b) argue that neoclassical economics is rooted in the deductivist method.2 Deductivism seeks to
'explain' something by deducing or predicting a statement about that
something from a set of initial conditions, assumptions, axioms and a
covering law and/or some other form of constant conjunction of events which
drives the inferential machinery. These conjunctions, where for every event y
there exists a set of events x1, x2...xn
such that y and x1, x2...xn are regularly
conjoined, only occur in, and are constitutive of, closed systems. There
are, however, very few spontaneously occurring closed systems in the natural
world, and virtually no non-trivial ones in the socio-economic world. Using
deductivism, therefore, means engineering artificially closed
systems by means of known falsehoods, reducing neoclassical economics
to what Hodgson (1999: 11) calls ‘the economics of nowhere’. What
is not always appreciated, however, is that the presence of known
falsehoods removes all explanatory power from neoclassical economics. This
paper illustrates the point via a brief analysis of the theory of labour
demand.
Closed system theorising: the example of the theory
of labour demand
The law of labour demand, which states that the quantity of labour demanded
varies indirectly with the (real) wage, is an example of one kind of constant
conjunction of events - a Humean law. Incidentally, the significance of this
apparently arcane law should not be underestimated: it underpins the entire
neo-liberal project of making labour markets more flexible. This constant
conjunction is artificially engineered via (at least) four assumptions known
as the Marshall-Hicks conditions. Demand for labour is alleged to be more
elastic if:
1. The elasticity of substitution between labour and
capital is high. The demand for labour will be more responsive to a
change in wages the more easily labour can be substituted for capital.
2. The elasticity of demand for the final product is
low. The demand for labour will be more responsive to a change in wages
if the cost increases caused by wage increases can be passed directly to the
consumer without a loss of revenue.
3. The share of wages in the total cost of production
is high. The demand for labour will be more responsive to a change in wages if
production is labour intensive because ages constitutes a relatively high proportion of overall costs.
4. The elasticity of supply of other factors is high. The
demand for labour will be more responsive to a change in wages if, when
capital is substituted for labour, the suppliers of this additional capital
are able to increase their supply immediately and effortlessly.
The M-H conditions close the system: without them there would be no
constant conjunctions between changes in labour demand and changes in the
wage. Unfortunately, however, the M-H conditions also introduce known
fictions into the theory. Let us consider the four M-H conditions as four closure
conditions.
Intrinsic
closure conditions (ICC)
To close the system, the internal state of individuals must be artificially engineered so
that the individual (person, production system, firm or whatever) always responds in the same
predictable way. The ICC is maintained, for example, by assuming ubiquitous
substitution between labour and capital.3 Where production
involves a relatively fixed crew of workers operating a relatively fixed set
of machinery it is often impossible to substitute a worker for a machine.
Where production requires human emotion such as a helpful attitude, a machine
cannot be substituted for a human. In some cases substitution of labour for
capital is not feasible: how does one substitute a machine for a nurse to
carefully bath an elderly patient? Even where is it technically possible,
substitution is often not socio-politically possible. If, however, the
ubiquity of substitutability is not assumed, a change in relative
factor prices cannot be said to cause the substitution of labour for capital,
and the constant conjunctions of events that constitute the law of labour
demand fail to emerge. Assuming ubiquitous substitution is a falsehood. Where
non-substitutability is recognised it is treated as a special
case. Knowingly false claims are, thereby, treated as the norm, and knowingly
true claims (e.g. that firms may offset a
legislated wage rise by introducing flexible working practices that raise
efficiency and reduce costs) are relegated to an afterthought.
The extrinsic closure condition (ECC)
The ECC ensures that the system is completely isolated from
any external influences that would violate
closure. This occurs by assuming things like: (a) the suppliers of other
factors of production can increase their supply immediately and effortlessly
should need arise, which is unrealistic, especially when the economy is
running near to capacity; and (b) the elasticity of demand for the final
product is low so that firms can pass wage increases onto customers, which is
a rather tenuous assumption in highly competitive global markets. Maintaining
the ECC, then, often requires falsehoods.
The aggregational closure condition (ACC)
The ACC ensures that the response
remains constant, irrespective of the level of aggregation. Hence, the need
to assume that the share of wages is high no matter what the industry. If for
example, the industry was, or became, highly capital intensive, an increase
in wages might be lost in the overall costs and demand for labour might not
fall following a wage increase. In capital-intensive industries, then, the
ACC is a falsehood.
The reducibility closure (sub) condition (RCsC)
The RCsC requires the existence of assumptions whose sole purpose
is to ensure mathematical tractability. These are merely technical
assumptions used to ensure the relevant functions are well behaved, thereby
preventing perverse outcomes. Even where substitution of capital for labour
is possible, it is often not continuous or ‘smooth’ but ‘lumpy’. Production
functions would have ‘lumps’ in them and could not be differentiated.
If any of these four closure conditions are not met (and there are, of
course, more ways of meeting them than mentioned here) constant conjunctions
will not emerge. Incidentally, that
there are four M-H and four closure conditions is merely
coincidence. Moreover closure requires far more than the M-H conditions: the
latter are merely those explicitly mentioned in the theory. Other assumptions
lie buried within the ceteris paribus
clause; are attached to sub-components of the theory, such as diminishing
marginal returns; or are made by omission.
Neoclassical
economists know perfectly well that they are using falsehoods (hence
the reference to known falsehoods) but often ignore the causes
and consequences of constraints on their freedom to choose the M-H
conditions, or assumptions in general. They cannot choose assumptions
on the grounds of their truth-likeness because the need to maintain systemic
closure often overrides these (and other) considerations – such as
descriptive adequacy. Faced with a decision between adopting an assumption
that is known to be false yet
closes the system, and one that is known to be true yet violates closure, the
known falsehood must be chosen or the constant conjunctions will not
emerge.
Removal
of explanatory power
A damaging consequence of adopting known falsehoods is that their presence removes
explanatory power, for (at least) three reasons - on explanation see Runde
(1998).
Explanation is not merely efficient causality
Many critical realists share with Lipton (1993; 33)
the thesis that to ‘explain a phenomenon
is to give information on the phenomenon’s causal history’. The causal
history of a phenomena is not merely (if at all) one couched in terms of the
event(s) that precede the phenomena,
but in terms of the underlying causal mechanisms. One does not, for example,
adequately explain (the event of) a lamp becoming illuminated simply by
pointing to the (event of) flicking of the switch that preceded it. One does
not adequately explain an increase in the demand for labour by pointing to
the fall in wages that (allegedly) preceded it. Yet this form of
‘explanation’ is all deductivism offers. The overriding necessity of closure
requires the removal (theoretically of course) of all causal mechanisms that
might violate the closure conditions. So, for example, the theory of labour
demand omits reference to trade unions, the introduction or abolition
of labour laws and responses to them, government policy, political ideology,
management systems, different working practices and so on, mechanisms that
have considerable causal impact on labour demand. But here is the rub: once removed from the theory these causal
mechanisms cannot subsequently be recalled and offered as part of the causal
explanation. Relevant causal mechanisms are either included in the theory, in
which case they can contribute to the causal explanation, or they are
excluded, in which case they cannot.
Explanation is not prediction
Prediction does not constitute explanation. The conflation of
prediction and explanation is referred
to as the ‘symmetry thesis’ whereby the only difference between
explanation and prediction relates to the direction of time (Caldwell 1991;
54). Explanation entails the deduction of an event after it has (or is known
to have) occurred. Prediction entails the deduction of an event prior to
(knowledge of) its occurrence. One can, however, predict without explaining anything at all. One can predict the onset of
measles following the emergence of Koplic spots, but the latter does not
explain measles. Even supposing an econometric model successfully predicted
an event (and the predictive power of neoclassical economics is arguably
weak), the regression might be grounded in no economic theory whatsoever, or
be grounded in a theory that contains known falsehoods. In this case, even a
successful prediction would not constitute an explanation.
Explanation does not allow known
falsehoods
If, as part of a causal account, one includes a known falsehood, or, leaves out some
important causal mechanism (falsehood by omission) then the ‘explanation’ can
immediately be rejected as a bone fide explanation by pointing to this
falsehood. Consider an analogy. In
explaining how my rubbish bags get ripped during the night, I might
hypothesise that it is the work of a fox or I might hypothesise that it is
the work of a ghost. The explanation involving the fox is advanced because I
believe it to be true. The ‘explanation’ involving the ghost is known
to be false but is advanced for a pragmatic reason: I want to frighten my
young nephew and stop him playing with the bin bags. Whilst the explanation
involving the fox is valid (even if it turns out to be mistaken) the
‘explanation’ involving the ghost, pragmatically useful as it is, is invalid
because it is known to be a falsehood. One only has to reflect upon
this for a moment to see this conclusion is self-evidently correct: if known
falsehoods are allowed to constitute ‘explanations’ imagine the bizarre
explanations that could be advanced!
Counter arguments considered
Two counter-arguments are
commonly deployed to legitimise the use of known falsehoods. The first runs
as follows: ‘all theory has to leave out the inessential, has to abstract
from reality, has to make unrealistic assumptions, so all theory is
inevitably false in the strict sense of the word’. Now whilst abstraction is
legitimate, the process is complex and cannot be elaborated upon here (c.f.
Sayer 1998). I defend my claim with the following observation. Theories like
that of labour demand are replete with such obvious falsehoods that to suggest
they are really (legitimate) abstractions is merely a rhetorical ploy to
avoid methodological discussion. In any case, as noted above most
neoclassical economists admit to knowingly using falsehoods. The
second counter-argument invokes the ‘method of successive approximation’
(Sweezy 1968; 11) or the ‘method of isolation’ (Maki 1992, but see Pratten
1999), and runs as follows. ‘The initial stages of theorisation use known
falsehoods. Explanatory power is added in stages as realistic assumptions are
successively substituted for false ones’. There are two objections to this.
- The method of successive approximation or
isolation might be appropriate when the successive analytical
steps merely involve the mechanical
addition of factors that were previously assumed away. This mechanical
addition is, however, not appropriate for systems where the elements
possess emergent properties. When, for example new technology is
introduced to a workplace or a new management regime is installed, its
behaviour often evolves, giving rise to properties that were not present
before. Many theoretical propositions derived on the basis of
pre-emergent properties provide no grounds for the analysis of
post-emergent forms of behaviour.
- Theory is still reliant on closed systems. All
that has happened is that one closed system has been added to another
(slightly larger) closed system. A succession of closed systems does
not, however, add up to an open system. Consider the following example:
·
Closed system1 assumes demand for labour is determined solely
by wages.
·
Closed system1 generates the deduction/prediction1 that
the introduction of a minimum wage will cause a fall in labour demand.
·
losed system2 now allows labour demand to be determined by
wages and (say) aggregate demand.
·
System2 is, however, still a closed system: it just
contains more variables. Many of the previous (false) assumptions remain in
place and, new (false) ones are added to ensure closure in this more complex system.
Falsehood is then piled upon falsehood – and the dream of one day removing
all false assumptions evaporates.
·
The
method of successive approximations, or successive closures might, therefore,
be more accurately termed the ‘method of successive falsehoods’ or the
‘method of successive closed systems’. In short, the counter-arguments do not
evade the critical realist critique.
Conclusion
To the
extent that neoclassical economic theory is rooted in the deductivist method,
constant conjunctions of events, artificially closed systems and known falsehoods, it explains nothing at all.
Notes
1. I wish to thank Paul Lewis for his careful comments.
2. Deductivism is also found in some heterodox (Austrian, Institutionalist,
Marxist and Post-Keynesian) economics whereupon these perspectives also
become vulnerable to the following critique.
3. Neoclassical theorists do, of course, recognise that substitution between
labour and capital is not ubiquitous and attempt to deal with it via
non-convex isoquants. ‘L’ shaped isoquants imply only one production
technique based upon one capital-labour combination and allow no
substitution. Isoquants with n ‘flat’ sections imply n-1 production
techniques and allow limited substitution. But, where tangency between the
isocost curve and the isoquants is at a corner, factor prices could change
without ‘causing’ substitution. Where tangency occurs along the face of one
of the ‘flat’ sections of the isoquant, then the choice of technique becomes
indeterminate.
References
Caldwell B. (1991) Beyond Positivism: Economic Methodology in the Twentieth Century,
Unwin Hyman.
Lipton P. (1993) Inference to
the Best Explanation, Routledge.
Fleetwood S. (1999a) ‘The
Inadequacy of Neoclassical Theories of Trade Unions, Labour Vol.13, No.2, pp
445-80.
----- (1999b ed.) Critical Realism in Economics: Development
and Debate, (1999) Routledge.
----- (2001a) ‘Causal Laws,
Functional Relations and Tendencies’, Review
of Political Economy, Vol. 13, No. 2, pp 201-
220, reprinted in P. Downward
(forthcoming 2002) Applied Economics
and the Critical Realist Critique, Routledge.
-----(2001b) ‘What Kind of Theory is Marx’s Labour Theory of Value? A Critical Realist
Inquiry’ Capital & Class 73, pp.41-
77.
Hodgson G. (1999) Economics and Utopia: Why The Learning Society is not
the End of History, Routledge.
Lawson T. (1998) Economics and Reality,
Routledge
Maki U. (1992) ‘On The Method Of Isolation In Economics’, Dilworth C.
(ed) Intelligibility in Science IV, Rodophi.
Pratten S. (1999) ‘The “Closure”
Assumption as a First Step’, in S. Fleetwood (ed) Critical Realism in Economics;
Development and Debate, Routledge.
Runde J. (1998) ‘Assessing Causal Economic Explanations’, Oxford Economic Papers No. 50, pp 151-172
Sayer A. (1998) ‘Abstraction: A Realist Interpretation’, M. Archer, R.
Bhaskar, A. Collier, T. Lawson, A. Norrie, (eds)
Critical
Realism: Essential Readings, Routledge
Sweezy P. (1968) Theory Of Capitalist
Development, Modern Reader.
_________________________
SUGGESTED CITATION:
Steve Fleetwood, "Why Neoclassical Economics Explains Nothing
At ”, post-autistic economics review,
issue no. 17, December 4, 2002, article 2. http://www.btinternet.com/~pae_news/review/issue17.htm
Defining "Economics"
Inclusively
Tony Aspromourgos (University of Sydney,
Australia)
In following the contributions and debates
in this Review it has struck me
that there is a need for a definition
of economics which is wider and more inclusive than the old
Wicksteed-inspired formula articulated by Lionel Robbins, in terms of the
allocation of scarce means to inexhaustible purposes. By the very terms of its constitution, this definition tends
towards defining the discipline as marginalist. That is to say, it tends
naturally to the normative inference that orthodox economics is (the only legitimate) economics.
Any definition of more generality should be concise, constitutive and
programmatic. I offer the following for consideration: In the most general
terms, economics is the study of how societies organize the production and
distribution of the means of human sustenance and larger consumption.
This is constitutive and programmatic in the sense that it defines a proper
domain for the discipline – and points to a desirable set of research
programmes which ought to be
undertaken.
Its inclusiveness – or, if one prefers,
its expansiveness – should be evident. The classical-Marxian orientation
towards material reproduction and distribution, with the price system as a
conduit for the associated allocation of commodities, fits naturally into
this definition. Keynesianism (and hence also the effective demand dimension
of Kalecki) can be articulated within its domain – as a theory of how, in
certain kinds of political societies, there may be no spontaneous mechanism
to ensure an optimal level of resource utilization, and hence sub-optimal
activity levels and consumption outcomes occur. The evolution of social
organization and institutions also finds a natural place, as the study of how
the politico-social mechanisms for effecting consumption have varied. Hence
those associated with the Historical School, evolutionary economics and
Institutionalism find a legitimate place.
My definition also avoids the asocial
orientation of marginalism by taking
its point of departure from social organization, rather than from
independent individuals. Furthermore, it embraces the study of current, past,
or even future (including ‘ideal’), societies. Hence it does not discriminate
against economic history – economic history is included in a natural way in
the definition, as well as economic anthropology and economic sociology. (The
discipline definitely would be better off if some of the resources currently
devoted to theorizing were redeployed to historical studies. There is too
much of the former and far too little of the latter.) The study of ‘ideal’ societies
points to normative analysis – in orthodox language, welfare economics –
though of course, non-orthodox welfare economics need not only proceed on
such a grand scale.
If it is felt that nature and the
natural environment should be more explicit in the definition, then
‘extraction,’ could be inserted before ‘production’ in the definition. In
fact, the focus on ‘sustenance’ is suggestive of sustainability – and indeed,
the classical focus on reproduction of social economies is, at core, a notion
of sustainability (including scarcity of an objective kind, rather than the
subjective marginalist form).
The definition offered here might also
have the effect of orienting the various, current subdisciplines of economics
more towards the final, human, material purpose of economic systems. This
need not in all respects involve radical departure from conventional
thinking. Hence, for example, the theory of finance has as its purpose the
study of instruments and systems for enabling the intertemporal shifting of consumption.
This is not a heterodox proposition, even if participants in financial
analysis often lose sight of this ultimate (legitimate) social purpose of
financial systems.
Consumption is not the ultimate human purpose of course; but beyond survival, the
purposes consumption serves seem not to be something economics can say
anything very significant about. Certainly orthodox economics has offered
little beyond empirically empty nonsense-tautologies like ‘utility’ and
‘preference’. (Why not just say ‘people are what they are’ and be done with
it!) The referring of consumption demand back to deeper underlying
characteristics of commodities may be
a fruitful way towards saying more.
From the standpoint of my suggested
definition of economics, the marginalist approach then appears as the study
of the distribution or allocation of a given set of resources to the
achievement of (some of) a given set of possible (ranked) uses. Hence my
definition does not, and does not seek to, exclude orthodox economics – it rather
locates it as one approach, to one particular kind of question, in a larger
and more general context.
Or perhaps it does exclude one dimension
of the marginalist intellectual project in its widest form: the idea that its
method (constrained individual optimization, with or without strategic
interaction) can be a general theory of human psychology and choice as such – hence the idea that it can
explain getting married, having children, going to war, committing suicide,
and so on. By orienting the subject matter towards ‘economics’ in the common sense of that term, my
definition marginalizes (pun intended) these pretensions. Get back to the
study of ‘guns and butter’ (or, in a classical vein, machine tools and corn)
boys and girls! ‘It’s the economy, stupid’ – indeed.
_________________________
SUGGESTED CITATION:
Tony Aspromourgos, “Defining 'Economics'
Inclusively”, post-autistic economics review,
issue no. 17,
December 4, 2002, article 3. http://www.btinternet.com/~pae_news/review/issue17.htm
Beautiful Mind,
Ugly Deception:
The Bank of Sweden Prize in Economics Science1
Yves
Gingras (Univerité du Quebec à Montéal)
Much has been said about the
Oscar-winning movie A Beautiful Mind and its hero, the mathematician John
Nash. Just as spring is the time for Oscars, a new crop of Nobel prizes has
accompanied the fall of autumn leaves every October since 1901. As Daniel Kahneman
and Vernon L. Smith share an award this year, it’s a good time to pose a
question raised by a neglected aspect of the movie: what prize exactly did
Nash really win?
The answer is not as obvious as it
seems. When A Beautiful Mind hit our screens, one correspondent to an
entertainment weekly pointed out that the ‘Nobel Prize in Mathematics’ he had
read about did not actually exist. Many will recall the brief scene in the
movie when the young Nash – suffering from lack of recognition of his true
genius – remarks to his MIT colleagues that he has been robbed of the ‘Fields
Medal’. What is that? Ask any mathematician, and he will tell you: ‘this is
the equivalent of the Nobel prize for mathematicians’. Established in 1936,
it is given once every four years to no more than four exceptional
mathematicians under 40 years of age.
The incident confirms that John Nash,
in coveting this most prestigious prize in the mathematics community, was at
that point still rooted in reality. In contrast, though the story of a man
from Stockholm waiting for Nash after his class to share the good news that
he had won a prize is confirmed, it is doubtful that the prize itself was
real. Or so I will claim.
The currency is prestige
Which ‘Nobel prize’ was the man from
Stockholm talking about? Most journalists (and every economist) will of
course answer, the ‘Nobel Prize in Economics’ – even though it is never
specified in the movie. Against this taken-for-granted ‘fact’, I am arguing
here that this prize does not exist: and moreover, that this so-called ‘Nobel
prize’ is an extraordinary case study in the successful transformation of
economic capital into symbolic capital, a transformation which greatly
inflates the symbolic power of the discipline of Economics in the public mind.
The confusion can be traced back to
1968 when the governor of the Central Bank of Sweden decided to mark the
tercentenary of that institution by creating a new award. It could have been
named after a well-known ancestral economist, such as Adam Smith, or more
simply, though unimaginatively, ‘The Bank of Sweden Prize in Economics’.
After all, every discipline has its own ‘prestigious’ prize. Their number
grows every year. However, the problem is that all these prizes, though well
known within the microcosms of their discipline, have little public appeal.
Only the Nobel prizes have a real public impact. But they are limited to five
fields: physics, chemistry, physiology and medicine, literature and, finally,
peace.
Moreover, the enormous symbolic
capital of the very name ‘Nobel prize’ has been accumulated over the years by
a careful selection of prizewinners. Like every new prize, by definition
unknown, the Nobel faced the problem of what we can call (invoking Pierre
Bourdieu’s apt concept) the ‘primitive accumulation of symbolic capital’.
This obstacle was overcome by giving the prize early on to already renowned
scientists who would bring the prize real credibility. The idea was that,
over the years, this symbolic capital would surely accrue to such an extent
that it could in turn bring recognition to the chosen winners.
The organisers, conscious of this
conundrum and wishing to endow the discipline of economics with as much
public credibility as possible, decided to call the prize: ‘The Bank of
Sweden Prize in Economic Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel’. Curiously then,
it was the memory of Nobel, not that of an economist, that was being
recalled. This mystery can be explained if we unpack the process crystallised
in that bizarre and awkward name.
First, despite the scepticism of some
scientists towards the ‘scientificity’ of economics, the Bank managed to
convince the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences and the Nobel Foundation to
administer their prize. Secondly, identical procedures for the selection and
nomination of the prize were chosen to those of the real Nobel prizes. Of
course, the prize money would come from the Bank of Sweden, not the Nobel
Foundation, but all the rest would be done exactly as if it was in fact a
Nobel prize, up to and including the ceremony of 10 December.
Thus, the inclusion of the term ‘in
Honor of Alfred Nobel’ in the title created the necessary bridge to the Nobel
prize, and by exactly mimicking the process, the Bank created all the
conditions enabling the association and even the identification of its prize
with those established by Alfred Nobel at the turn of the century. Note that,
for obvious reasons, it is much simpler to say ‘Nobel Prize in Economics’
than ‘Bank of Sweden Prize in Economic Sciences in Honor of Alfred Nobel’! No
surprise that, since 1969, all journalists and economists have commonly
referred to the Bank of Sweden Prize as ‘The Nobel Prize in Economics’. The
strategy was a complete success.
The
social alchemy of belief
Now that we understand why a bizarre
name was chosen, transforming a peculiar social alchemy into a ‘Nobel prize’,
let us look at the ‘flow of capital’ the whole process involved. The Bank
started with economic capital and ‘invested’ it in the Nobel Foundation to
transform it into symbolic capital as fast as possible. Even a very large
amount of cash is not sufficient in itself to assure the prestige of a prize.
The key point was to effect a complete transfer of the already accumulated
symbolic capital of the Nobel prizes to the new Economic Prize instituted by
the Bank. Any other strategy would have been more risky given the difficulty,
uncertainty and time lag attending any primitive accumulation of symbolic
capital. In other words, this history makes visible the well-managed transformation
of economic into symbolic capital, thus confirming Bourdieu’s theory of the
convertibility of the basic kinds of capital (economic, social, cultural and
symbolic).
Of course, many will say: ‘We all know
it is the Bank of Sweden Prize, but it is much simpler to say “Nobel Prize”.’
In point of fact, the Nobel website is careful to make the distinction, thus
habitually announcing the ‘2002 Nobel Prizes and the Prize in Economic
Sciences in Memory of Alfred Nobel’. But this argument is either naive or
disingenuous. For the success of the strategy of creating a ‘Nobel by
association’ has obvious social consequences.
As anyone knows, the attribution of a
Nobel prize gives instant world fame to the winners, who become oracles
commenting on anything journalists can fathom: war, peace, philosophy,
environment, irrespective of their particular fields of expertise.
Interestingly, there is a strong correlation between the dates of attribution
of a Nobel prize and the subsequent publication of memoirs or opinionated
books by Nobel Laureates. This is a socio-logical consequence of the fact
that the legitimacy bestowed by the Nobel prize is rapidly put to use in the
public space to voice ideas that the winner would not have dared to submit
were he or she a ‘simple scientist’.
Whereas the ‘spontaneous’ philosophy
or sociology of scientists can be considered relatively harmless, the
situation is quite different in economics. By its annual offer of a public
image of ‘hard science’ through its association with the Nobel prizes, the
Bank of Sweden Prize in Economic Sciences gives the discipline and its
laureates the ‘scientific’ aura it lacked to put forward authoritative but
often simplistic theories about the economy (or, worse, the whole society)
conceived as a big ‘market’ where everything can be submitted to the
so-called ‘law of demand’ – be it a house, a wedding, or even an idea.
What is even more fascinating is that
the social alchemy which transmuted the Bank of Sweden prize into a Nobel
prize, affe |