Author Archives: Diane Coyle

Metaphysical struggles

Posted on by

I really enjoyed reading Metaphysical Animals: How Four Women Brought Philosophy Back to Life by Clare Mac Cumhaill and Rachel Wiseman. It’s one of two recent books about the quartet Elizabeth Anscombe, Philippa Foot, Mary Midgley and Iris Murdoch, all philosophy students at Oxford just before and during World War Two, and remaining close in the postwar years as they began their scholarly and writing careers. (The other is The Women Are Up To Something by Benjamin Lipscomb, which I haven’t read yet.)

Unsurprisingly, the book is about philosophy rather than economics. I did PPE at Oxford and felt pretty hopeless at the philosophy despite doing ok in exams. We were taught the British tradition – Locke and Hume – and modern linguistic and analytic philosophy – Ayer and Hare. The four women didn’t feature; I’d heard of Irisl Murdoch only, and only for her novels. So I think this implies that the subtitle is perhaps wrong: at least from my perspective, the four might have halted the onward march of reductive positivism in philosophy, but they lost the war.

I was particularly struck by the description of how the shockingly male and misogynist Oxford philosophy establishment reclaimed territory when the men returned from war. “If undergraduate classes before the war had been full of ‘clever young men who liked winning arguments,’ … graduate classes were now led by such men and full of others who were being specifically trained in modern methods and hothoused for a profession that would reward cleverness, quickness and agression.”

Well, hello. Isn’t this the story of economics too? Both disciplines have painfully low proportions of women (and others from backgrounds where people are not automatically taught the confidence needed to put on a show of clever, quick and aggressive). Both are still like this. The culture and make-up are mutually reinforcing. There won’t be a quick solution if any, but the struggle of these four philosophers is inspiring. As is that of all the women of their era who fought to be able to wear trousers if they felt like it, and above all get the same education and scholarly opportunities as the men.

91OHqe8wbcL._AC_UY436_QL65_

 

Internet empires – their rise and decline?

Posted on by

Has the American Empire simply moved online? That’s the argument made in an enjoyable polemic by Sean Ennis, Internet Empire: The Hidden Digital War. It’s a book with two strands. One about wars and empires through history: what motivates conflict, how empires grab territory when the economic advantages outweigh the costs of maintaining the colonies, why empires either collapse or survive.

This is braided with an account of how the US (and, thanks to protection of its domestic market, China) won near-global dominance of the internet and the money to be made from the internet for its own companies. Marvellous technology, an economic system favouring enterprise and investment, and active policy support from successive US governments have created the market-dominant players who shape modern life.

Hence, “The core thesis of this book is that the modern-day internet structure is economically equivalent to what, in prior times, would have been an empire acquired through aggression into new territories.” The aggression this time has involved weapons such as effective lobbying/political blackmail over tax and trade policies, control of domain names, non-enforcement of antitrust policies to enable the giants to grow, and so on. It’s an interesting analogy although I’m not persuaded that commercial and actual conflict/conquest are really similar.

The US succeeded where France’s earlier Minitel system did not, the book argues, because Minitel was a closed interface system run by a state-owned incumbent telco – whereas in the US, AOL tried this approach in the early internet days but dropped this when the attractions of the open internet to users became both evident and available through browsers and the web. “The unquestionable French lead in the release of digital technology was squandered by the country.”

This prompts two reflections. One is that the book – in asking with Europe has no internet giants – ignores the advantage of scale. When there are high fixed costs and netwrok effects, the bigger the addressable market the better.

The other is that if open beats closed in the end, are the current internet giants undermining their own success? For what they are trying to do is tie users in ever-more tightly, and exploiting this captive market to degrade their services – just think how much search results have deteriorated on Google or Amazon. Meanwhile Mr Musk is similarly degrading the attractiveness of Twitter. The width of the open goal they are presenting to newcomers with their own great technology is increasing by the day. Regulators and competition authorities can help by mandating more, much more, open data and interoperability – as the Bundeskartellamt seems to be doing.

Still, as the book concludes, we can all do something. It ends with a list of To Dos: use multiple platforms – click away from Google. Buy direct from sellers even if it’s a bit less convenient. Go to the local high street to shop. Pay for a newspaper. In short, give up just a bit of the convenience and cost-saving to keep the digital giants on their toes and maybe open the way for new ones to come along. I’m sceptical individual action will make a big difference although happy to encourage the use of Hirschman’s Exit and Voice disciplines. It’s going to take policy choices, and almost certainly by the EU, to reshape digital markets.

Internet Empire The Hidden Digital War

Against social media?

Posted on by

Anti-social Media: How Facebook Disconnects Us and Undermines Democracy by Siva Vaidhyanathan was published in 2018; I can’t remember how it came to be in the in-pile. Anyway, it’s an interesting analysis that does what it says in the subtitle, and does so far better than the massively over-hyped and underwhelming Surveillance Capitalism by Shoshan Zuboff the following year. The chapter each focus on a theme: surveillance, attention, privacy, protest etc.

Despite the title – and indeed the conclusion – each is quite measured and nuanced. For instance, I like his definition of privacy: “The word more accurately describes the ways we manage our reputations within and among various contexts,” rather than the all-or-nothing way it’s usually discussed. I’ve been using a similar concept, of “privacy in public,” the wish to reveal specific information to specific people for a purpose. Similarly his co-ordination problem argument for regulating social media rather than leaving it to companies themselves. Or his masterly debunking of the Cambridge Analytica claim to being all-effective at winning the Trump election.

So there’s a lot to like in the book. It doesn’t quite add up though. Although it’s mostly about Facebook, other Big Tech firms slip in as miscreants – so why were they left out in the first place? I suppose attention has turned now to the Musk-ing of Twitter so we’re less focused on Facebook than was the case in 2018, and that doesn’t mean the issues have gone away.

More than that, the regulators and politicians should be part of the story. It has taken until late 2022 for competition authorities to start to get tough, and in the UK the patchy Online Safety Bill is still chugging through the legislative process. Why was the policy world so slow to act? I sometimes wonder what would have happened if social media companies had been regulated as publishers right from the start – an option that was discussed and rejected back in the day. Now there’s an alternative history.

41GOUJ0I94L._AC_UY436_QL65_

 

Economists as superheroes

Posted on by

Erik Angner’s new book out this month (Jan 2023) is called How Economics Can Save The World: SImple Ideas to Solve Our Biggest Problems. Economists as superheroes – lovely image, especially given the often-negative press we get. The book is a very nice example of the genre of applying economic concepts and research to practical questions, distinguished from others (including my own offerings) by its author’s expertise in behavioural economics. Many people will know his outstanding textbook A Course In Behavioural Economics.

After an introductory chapter about the character of economics and why it doesn’t deserve its bad press – including why the term ‘dismal science’ is a badge of honour. For those who don’t know the story, Thomas Carlyle coined the phrase because economists of the day were prominent anti-slavery campaigners, whereas he was very pro-slavery. The moral compass of the economists was underpinned by the subject’s ‘analytical egalitarianism’: all utility functions are equal.

The chapters cover subjects ranging from the elimination of poverty and tackling climate change to using empirical evidence to improve your parenting (“the fact that an activity has traditionally been considered women’s work does not make it any less economic”), practical tips for changing socially obnoxious behaviours or norms, how to avoid the pitfall of overconfidence (“Overconfidence is resistance to information”), and how to get rich with sensible saving and investment tips. For example, to establish a new social norm there are four principles of change: the new norm has to be common knowledge, so communication is essential; people need a reason to change – is the new behaviour good for them?; people need to know they are not being morally judged or punished for switching; and trendsetters or first movers are needed.

I was particularly pleased to see there is a chapter on the work of Elinor Ostrom, ‘How to Build Community’. Mainstream economics still pays too little attention to her insights about the collective organisation of resource use and allocation. (She features in my book Markets, State and People.) I also particularly appreciate the way the book underlines the fact that economics is not and cannot be value-free yet nevertheless provides tools for using evidence to support or challenge decisions and actions.

How Economics Can Save the World is a very nicely written book, managing to incorporate a huge amount of economic research, and with a wide range of examples. As well as being of interest to the general reader, it would make a good, motivating companion to a behavioural economics course.

4186H4xs0XL._SY346_

 

DIY history for autocrats

Posted on by

Wishing a Happy New Year to all readers of this blog – thank you for reading.

It has been a depressing 2022 and the omens for 2023 don’t look great. I’m not completely convinced about the polycrisis notion, but for somebody in the UK the impact of events (the war), the cyclical downturn and the structural weaknesses of our economy and society (where to start?) make for a bleak start to the year.

So how better to begin my reading, amid the relaxing mayhem and death of detective fiction (and a quick re-read of The Wealth of Nations to decide whether I have anything to say in an upcoming Adam Smith workshop), than Katie Stallard’s Dancing on Bones? A journalist, the author has reported for years from Russia, China and North Korea. The book was published just as Russia invaded Ukraine, so doesn’t reflect the most recent events, but it starts in Ukraine in 2014, with the initial invasion of Crimea. The book is a reflection on how these autocrats – Xi , Putin and the Kims – use history (I should write ‘history’) to cement their hold on power. In particular, it describes how in each case history has been rewritten into myth, with a specific conflict turned into a regime founding story. I hadn’t known that the USSR used not to make such a big deal of World War 2, that China’s memorial days were even more recently introduced, or indeed that the successive Kims simply invented the account of the Korean war that is taught to all North Korean subjects from kindergarten on.

It is a bit disconcerting to read of the events of 1989 told as distant history – I’m old enough to have super-clear memories of watching the TV reports from East Germany, from Prague, from Romania in late 1989, and in one of my jobs immersed myself in the detail of perestroika to interpret the USSR economy.

The most engaging parts of the book are those told from direct experience, the reportage, not surprisingly. Even so, I learned things I hadn’t known – especially about N Korea – and it’s very well written. It’s a good complement to the excellent Strongmen by Ruth Ben-Ghiat (I haven’t read Gideon Rachman’s The Age of the Strongman). Let’s hope 2023 turns into a bad year for autocrats.

61EiEjRDIqL._AC_UY436_QL65_