New York Review of Books

How to Understand the Economy

By Robert M. Solow, Nov. 16, 2006 Issue

Adam’s Fallacy: A guide to economic theology
By Duncan K. Foley (Belknap Press/Harvard University Press, 265 pp.,
$25.95).

Economic theology masquerading as economics is not anyone’s exclusive
property, right or left. Foley is right to insist on that, and it is a
useful lesson for educated general readers. But relegating modern mainstream
economics to the “margins” is not a favor to his audience because they are
deprived of some interesting intellectual machinery that can help them to
understand the economics of everyday life. The allocation of fifty pages
instead of twenty-three would have given him the opportunity to sketch a
validly agnostic reading of some modern economic theory. Instead one finds a
casual brush-off, often so casual as to be a misleading distortion.

I will mention one minor example, because it points to a bad habit in
mainstream economics that bugs me even more than it does Foley. He remarks,
quite correctly, that the mainstream (“marginalist”) project of tracking
equilibrium prices and quantities is intrinsically complex and difficult
because the buyers and sellers (“agents”) in an economy differ substantially
in their interests, tastes, capacities, information, and social positions.
Foley writes:

One short-cut, which neoclassical economists frequently take, is to assume
that all individuals in society are exactly alike, so that they can be
reduced to a “representative agent,” and then to work out how the
representative agent would allocate the existing stock of commodities, and
what marginal utilities (whose ratios will be interpreted as market prices)
will result.

He then points out that this device is very likely to give wrong answers
(and, he might have added, more emollient, Panglossian answers.)

This is fine as far as Foley goes, but it does not go very far; I think it
is basically uninformative to a non-specialist. It would have taken only a
couple of pages to explain that the representative-agent device is far from
universal in mainstream economics; it appears mainly in a few sub-areas of
the discipline, but one of these is important. The representative-agent
device has been adopted by a significant, perhaps dominant, school of
thought known as real business cycle theory, and it is applied to a problem
of everyday life where it can do a lot of damage: the theory of those
irregularly alternating states of affairs we call prosperity and recessions.
The representative-agent device, by simply assuming away the more or less
obvious differences in desires, expectations, and beliefs among groups of
consumers, investors, workers and business firms, manages to convert the
business cycle from a (large or small) pathology of the economic system into
a sort of optimal adaptation to unforeseeable disturbances. Thus, a
recession is seen as the “rational,” even inevitable, market response to an
unforeseen event, not a possibly preventable reaction to excessive capital
investment or financial speculation. Here and elsewhere, Foley misses an
opportunity to teach useful lessons about both economic theology and
economic analysis.

With this background, we can turn to the major theme of Adam’s Fallacy (The
Adam in question is Smith, of course, but the reminder of the First Man is
surely intended.) Here is Foley’s first extended statement of what he means:

For me the fallacy lies in the idea that it is possible to separate an
economic sphere of life, in which the pursuit of self-interest is guided by
objective laws to a socially beneficent outcome, from the rest of social
life in which the pursuit of self-interest is morally problematic and has to
be weighed against other ends. This separation of an economic sphere, with
its presumed specific principles of organization, from the much messier,
less determinate, and morally more problematic problems of politics, social
conflict and values is the foundation of political economy and economics as
an intellectual discipline.

Elsewhere in the book there are many references to Adam’s Fallacy in
specific contexts, some of which do not seem to me to fit the basic
definition. “The moral fallacy of Smith’s position,” writes Foley, “is that
it urges us to accept direct and concrete evil in order that indirect and
abstract good may come of it.”  But is this a fallacy? Consider one of Foley
’s examples:

>From Malthus’s perspective, charity to the poor was self-defeating or, even
worse, exacerbated the problem of poverty: charity or the dole allows
workers to reproduce even when they have no employment. Thus subsidizing the
poor pushes down the wage and standard of living at which population
stabilizes…This kind of reasoning is characteristic of Adam’s Fallacy. Its
method lies in contrasting the immediate effects of action (charity
relieving the suffering of the poor) with indirect, systemic effects
(charity expanding the population and lowering the standard of living of the
poor). Its burden is the moral necessity of resisting moral impulse….

Now Malthus may have been wrong. Certainly no one in Britain today would
think of appealing to the Iron Law of Wages, which holds that wages will be
drive down to subsistence levels. But if Malthus was right in 18th century
Britain or in some poor country now, then I do not see that his argument
involves any “separation” of an objective sphere of economics from a broader
moral sphere. He is claiming that, in this case, the pursuit of short-run
moral benefits (money for charity) will, through the working-out of certain
empirically valid patterns of human behavior (Foley calls them objective
laws), result in long-run moral costs that outweigh the sought-for benefits.
If your oncologist tells you that this course of chemotherapy will be
exceedingly painful but will lead to an enduring improvement in quality of
life, you hope she is right, but you do not suspect a fallacious separation
of an objective medical sphere from a broader moral sphere.  Similarly,
refusing charity to the poor may be  painful for them in the short run but
may have broad beneficial effects over time. Of course, the modern
successors of Malthus, who have sometimes argued that the relief of poverty
through public assistance actually creates and prolongs poverty, may
drastically overstate the case.

The reach of Adams’ Fallacy may thus be a little less than Duncan Foley
suggests. But the original statement of it is interesting and important.
Someone like me, who adopts the mechanic’s-eye view of economics, has to
deal with it.

Students of economics are indeed taught to make a clear distinction between
positive statements (this is how this piece of the world works) and
normative statements (some states of the world are better than others). They
are taught that no “ought” follows from an “is,” except with the addition of
a clearly defined ethical criterion. And then they are taught a very
stringent criterion of betterness, devised in the early 20th century by the
Italian economist Vilfredo Pareto: a state of the world A is
 “Pareto-better,” or more Pareto-efficient, than state of the world B, if
and only if every person is better off in his or her own estimation in state
A than he or she is in state B.

There are three important things to say about that criterion. First, it is
totally individualistic; no person’s well-being can legitimately be traded
off against any other person’s. Second, for that very reason, it is almost
impossible to satisfy in practice; not many policy moves that are of benefit
to many will be costly to no one, and certainly not redistributive moves.
Third, for that very reason, there is a temptation to violate the Pareto
rule in practice; but it serves the purpose of reminding the violator to be
clear about the “welfare criterion” being appealed to.

There is a common, theologically fraught pitfall here. We are all familiar
with statutory regulations that are said to “distort” economic decisions,
and prevent resources from being allocated to their socially most productive
use. Presumably they are enacted for some worthy purpose. Rent control is an
example: large rent-controlled apartments may house small families who
cannot afford to leave, while larger families pay higher uncontrolled rents
for smaller spaces. (Leave aside any effect on new construction.) An end to
rent control would allow an increase in “efficiency,” in the precise sense
that everyone cold be better off; those who gain from decontrol could in
principle compensate – perhaps through state-imposed taxes and transfers 0
those who lose, and have something left over to share around. But that never
happens: instead, the rise in rents following decontrol amounts to a
transfer of wealth from tenants to landlords. The Pareto criterion is not
satisfied in practice. But acolytes of the free market focus on the gain in
efficiency and tend to neglect the equity or distributional consequences.

This is, just as Foley says, an illegitimate separation of economic from
moral considerations, an example of Adam’s Fallacy. But it is not intrinsic
to marginalist or neoclassical economics. In fact the analysis of the
effects of abolishing rent control that I just sketched is neoclassical
economics. The trouble is neoclassical economics is amazingly good at
teasing out the last detail about efficiency gains and losses, but it has no
special tools for analyzing equity considerations.  So there is a tendency
to marshal “economics” on behalf of free marketeerings, knee-deep in Adam’s
Fallacy. The remedy, it seems to me, is to show where the applications have
gone wrong rather than to abandon the theory in favor of some inferior mode
of thinking.

Foley is deeply skeptical about the ability to correct misguided
applications of neoclassical economics. “In its sophisticated form,” he
writes, “neoclassical economics finesses the question of morality through a
version of pragmatism.” But are there really any significant instances where
the economic and the moral are so inextricably intertwined that careful
analysis and fact-finding cannot succeed in elucidating the issues? The only
cases I can think of are those where the economic act itself is felt as
immoral, for example, we do not allow the voluntary sale of body organs for
transplant. Even so, we mechanics would opt for sticking to those problems –
of which there are many – where one can figure out (a) how the systems
works, and (b) exactly what moral issues are implicated. These might
include, for example, the price of oil, the control of population, the
inequality of wages, the persistence of unemployment, and the necessity of
some public investment. Render unto Marshall.

My tentative view is that Adam’s Fallacy is better regarded as a bad habit
that certain ways of thinking about economics may encourage, though not
necessarily imply. Maybe it should be called Duncan’s Temptation.
Infatuation with the remarkable properties of decentralized markets, and
with the capacity of modern economic analysis to sort them out, does not
provide a free pass to “leave it to the market” regardless of distributional
and other ethical considerations.

This conclusion is worth some emphasis.  Foley reflects on Adam Smith’s
claim that unfettered competitive markets guide the consequences of
self-interest to a socially beneficent outcome. Modern students learn that
this “beneficence” has to be carefully interpreted. The economy starts with
a set of participants, each endowed with a certain bundle of resources,
property and capacities. According to the remarkable “First Theorem of
Welfare Economics” (conceived by Kenneth Arrow, among others), a perfect
free market system – and months of study go into the precise meaning of
“perfect” here – will achieve a Pareto-optimal outcome. No feasible
reallocation can make anyone better off without making someone else worse
off.  That might be described as a certain kind of beneficence.  But if the
initial endowments of each participant in the economy had been different, a
different Pareto-efficient outcome would have come about, and very likely
those individuals whose endowments of wealth and skills had been improved
would fare better in the outcome. So the free market outcome is not “better”
that its starting distribution of wealth.  It can be described as socially
desirable only if the allocation of initial endowments was socially
desirable. The theological free marketeer likes to omit that proviso. A good
student should not.

Toward the end of Foley’s short book, there is another short chapter about
four maverick early 20th century economists.  John Maynard Keynes, Thorstein
Veblen (a favorite of mine, too), Frederich Hayek, and Joseph Schumpeter.
Keynes is the most important of these, and Foley does well by him, though I
would have like more attention to the uses that mechanics have made of
Keynes’s ideas in analyzing the day-to-day operation of the economic system
as a whole. This is especially important when there is excess unemployment
and idle capacity, and the beautiful neoclassical rules do not apply.

The space available for Veblen is not nearly enough to allow a discussion of
the variety of his offbeat insights, but I am glad that Foley included him.
He is also good on Hayek, especially at drawing a line between Hayek’s
essential contribution about the informational content of decentralized
markets and his purely ideological utterances.  I was especially delighted
to hear that Duncan Foley finds Hayek’s book on business cycles as
incomprehensible today as I found it as a student sixty years ago. I am less
of an admirer of Schumpeter’s Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy, and a
little more about his earlier Theory of Economic Development, with its focus
on entrepreneurial innovation as the driving force of economic progress.
Anyway, the best these short vignettes can do is to induce some readers to
go further.

So what would I tell an educated general reader who is looking for a book on
economics? Duncan Foley could not fail to have written a book with spark and
depth. He has done that, and it ranks right up there with Heilbroner’s
classic. Heilbroner has more to say about the political and economic setting
in which each of his worldly philosophers emerged; but Foley gets deeper
into the analytical content of major schools of thought. Still, Adam’s
Fallacy is not the book I would have wished for. That would have been more
of a Popular Mechanics; this is what they say about the exchange value of
the dollar; this is what they say about the combination of recession and
inflation; this is what they say about the estate tax; and this is how they
tie these things together.  Yet another take will be available next spring
when Oxford University Press publishes Partha Dasgupta’s Economics: A very
short introduction, which is more about the institutional infrastructure
required for a well-functioning market economy.  Maybe the best thing to
tell the educated general reader now is: you know you could read two books.


http://www.nybooks.com/articles/article-preview?article_id=19602
<http://www.nybooks.com/articles/article-preview?article_id=19602>
please contact me if you would like a single reader friendly copy.

Duncan Foley’s Adam’s Fallacy reviewed                                                                                                      7

 

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