Pop economics and pop economic methodology

It took me a while to work out what was odd about Ha-Joon Chang’s [amazon_link id=”0718197038″ target=”_blank” ]Economics: The User’s Guide[/amazon_link]. It is that the title is literally descriptive. I was expecting a book about the economy, or economies, told from the author’s refreshingly distinctive perspective. It’s actually a book about the economics profession. An alternative title would be Economic Methodology: an introduction to the issues, although it would obviously sell fewer copies. So it’s a useful book but I wonder about the intended audience? The campaigning economics students will really enjoy it, but I’m just not sure what the general intelligent readership will make of it.

[amazon_image id=”0718197038″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Economics: The User’s Guide: A Pelican Introduction (Pelican Books)[/amazon_image]

The first couple of chapters irritated me. He asks, ‘Why are people not very interested in economics?’ Actually, they are. Student numbers are going up, and pop economics books sell well (including [amazon_link id=”0141047976″ target=”_blank” ]23 Things They Don’t Tell You About Capitalism[/amazon_link]).

He then goes on to distinguish between the imperialist version of economics (anything can be seen through the lens of rational choice and claimed as economics) and economics as the study of economies – and I agree with his view that it should mainly be the latter. But along the way the book asserts that ‘most’ economists pay no attention to issues such as bargaining power in labour markets, or technology and the structure of production. Excuse me?! This is a simple bizarre dismissal of huge swathes of economics (including my own areas). I find it increasingly frustrating that critics of economics portray the subject in such a Manichean way that they can’t acknowledge that we’re not all Eugene Famas or Steven Levitts, and in fact very, very, very few actual economists take the kind of approach presented as the ‘neo-liberal mainstream’. Indeed many of us agree with some aspects of the criticisms, and would like to engage in fruitful debate rather than Punch and Judy knockabout. Many – most – of the economists I know think economic history is important and read it themselves, in contrast to Ha-Joon Chang’s assertion. Maybe it’s just Cambridge, although I don’t think so.

The book gets better after this. There are a couple of chapters that cover – briefly – key economic concepts and an outline of global economic history. This is a kind of ‘pass notes’ introduction. A description of the main ‘schools’ of economic thought follows, a one-chapter intro to the history of economic thought. It’s a bit tendentious, but hard for anybody not to be in such a concise summary.

The remaining chapters pick selected macroeconomic topics , including inequality, the role of the state, growth, welfare and happiness, finance. In most cases, Ha-Joon Chang’s preferred approach to the question is contrasted with what a ‘free market’ economist would say about it. There is little about all the other schools of thought such as the Austrian or straight Marxist, described in the earlier history of thought chapter. The presentation is: ‘here’s my sensible, realistic way to think about think about this issue, and here’s what most mainstream economists (by implication, mad ideologues) say about it.’ So it’s a bit irritating but they are decent overviews of the chosen issues.

It takes me back to the audience question, though. This is an interesting read for 6th formers or undergraduates but as a supplement because there isn’t enough economics in it, or rather not enough economics to make sense of the meta-economics. Still, it would give them a useful perspective on macroeconomic issues. The history of thought chapter seems to me the most useful because it is a good capsule overview of something too rarely taught. As for the general reader, I find it hard to tell. I might have to try it on my economist son and my non-economist husband to see what they think. Perhaps I’m just too close to this debate to judge.

Humans or freaks?

I wasn’t a fan of [amazon_link id=”0141019018″ target=”_blank” ]Freakonomics[/amazon_link] and it sounds like the new Dubner and Levitt book, [amazon_link id=”1846147557″ target=”_blank” ]Think Like a Freak[/amazon_link], is one to skip, at least judging from this review by David Runciman (author of the marvellous [amazon_link id=”0691148686″ target=”_blank” ]The Confidence Trap[/amazon_link]). The freakiness of [amazon_link id=”0606324305″ target=”_blank” ]Freakonomics[/amazon_link] is what bothered me. What that book really did was apply the assumptions and quantitative methods of economics to all sorts of social questions.

It was the logical extension of the [amazon_link id=”0226041123″ target=”_blank” ]Gary Becker[/amazon_link] approach, the economic imperialism of claiming non-economic subjects for economic analysis. And while this cast an interesting, and accurate, light on many subjects, I think it went too far. It is interesting to understand the economic aspect of marriage choices, but wrong to claim this is the most important aspect. On this I’m with Ha-Joon Chang’s [amazon_link id=”0718197038″ target=”_blank” ]Economics: The User’s Guide[/amazon_link]. (I’m part way through.) Economics is (mainly) about the economy, and while there is a fuzzy boundary between the economy and society, the Freakonomics world oversteps it.

Tim Harford has a terrific column about this, reflecting on Becker’s legacy after his death the other week. He’s more positive about Becker’s influence.

[amazon_image id=”1846147557″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Think Like a Freak: How to Think Smarter about Almost Everything[/amazon_image]   [amazon_image id=”0226041123″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Economic Approach to Human Behavior[/amazon_image]

[amazon_image id=”0070067090″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]The Economics of Life: From Baseball to Affirmative Action to Immigration, How Real-World Issues Affect Our Everyday Life[/amazon_image]   [amazon_image id=”0226041026″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Uncommon Sense: Economic Insights, from Marriage to Terrorism[/amazon_image]

Economics: The User’s Guide

Ha-Joon Chang’s new book, [amazon_link id=”0718197038″ target=”_blank” ]Economics: The User’s Guide[/amazon_link], is sitting enticingly on my desk. It starts: “Why are people not very interested in economics?” A false premise surely? All the evidence from rising student numbers to popular economics book sales (not to mention the Piketty phenomenon) is that people are *hugely* interested in economics. And a good thing too – far too important to be left to us economists.

[amazon_image id=”0718197038″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]Economics: The User’s Guide: A Pelican Introduction (Pelican Books)[/amazon_image]

I was disappointed by his column with Jonathan Aldred in last Sunday’s paper, which pretends that it’s only a beleaguered but wise minority of economists who want to see curriculum change, and dismisses the CORE curriculum that’s under development without – on the internal evidence of the column – having looked at it. Calls for radical reform make for good newspaper copy but ignore the practicalities of achieving change. It would be a shame if the real momentum behind curriculum reform got dissipated because of ill-informed comment from people who should be supporting it. Still, it’s the prerogative of would-be revolutionaries to be idealistic/unrealistic. Here is my VoxEU column, trying to be balanced about the curriculum debate.

Paging through the new book, though, it looks very good. It’s one of the launch titles in the new Pelican series. And at £7.99, about the same price adjusted for inflation as my 1970s were £1.95 Pelicans.

The trouble with economics, part 92

I’ve had a busy week, to say the least. So I’ve only been inching my way very slowly through the very interesting [amazon_link id=”0691155240″ target=”_blank” ]Fragile By Design[/amazon_link] by Charles Calomiris and Stephen Haber.

On Monday at the OECD Forum, though, as well as talking about my own book, [amazon_link id=”0691156794″ target=”_blank” ]GDP: A Brief But Affectionate History[/amazon_link], I had a very interesting debate with Marie-Laure Djelic and Yves Flückiger about economics and economics education. They were both critical of economics, for familiar reasons – many of which I agree with.

However, Marie-Laure made one really interesting point I hadn’t thought of before. She was talking about Michael Sandel’s [amazon_link id=”0241954487″ target=”_blank” ]What Money Can’t Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets[/amazon_link]. A weakness of the book, in my view, was its failure to answer the question about where those limits lie. Sandel criticises the fact that people pay other people to stand in line for them to pick up free tickets for plays in Central Park. But why is that worse than paying people for their time in other ways, like babysitting? Marie-Laure argued that he should not have tried to specify the limits of the market, however – she sees it as a collective, political decision, not a question to which there can be a technocratic answer.

[amazon_image id=”0241954487″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]What Money Can’t Buy[/amazon_image]

I only partly agree with that. Of course political imperatives should be able to override a market – think of the civic need for rationing during wartime even though it fuels a “black market”. However, it seems clear to me that instincts or political outcomes should be tested from the perspective of what a market outcome would look like. Take the example of emissions markets: there are people, maybe many people, who think markets and the environment shouldn’t mix at all, but that’s just perverse if a market process can lead to a better environmental outcome. And if there is a strong moral instinct not to allow payment for queuing, the moral philosophers should try to explain why it does differ from other forms of payment for labour time.

 

This is how little I know

It’s terrifying how easy it is to be blithely unaware of the intellectual history of economics, even if you read a lot, as I do. History of thought is one of the glaring gaps in undergraduate and graduate courses, alongside economic history per se.

Last week, when I was speaking at the Manchester Statistical Society, my discussant, Dr Richard Pryke, mentioned the work of Ian Little. At the weekend I looked him up and found this fabulous obit written by Professor Peter Oppenheimer and this by Robert Skidelsky.

It turns out that Prof Little’s [amazon_link id=”0198281196″ target=”_blank” ]A Critique of Welfare Economics[/amazon_link] of 1950 was hugely influential and was reissued in 2002. I’m not at all proud of knowing nothing about it, and will try to fill the gap.

[amazon_image id=”0198281196″ link=”true” target=”_blank” size=”medium” ]A Critique of Welfare Economics[/amazon_image]