The Professor and the Columnist [by David Warsh]

To the long list of sharp reactions provoked around the world by
George W. Bush now must be added another:  the decision last week by
the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences to give its 2008 Nobel Prize in
economics to Paul Krugman, 55, of Princeton University and The New
York Times.

Not that the honor is in any sense undeserved. On the contrary, it has
long been anticipated; for two decades, it has been a question of how
and when. The central part that Krugman played in overturning 175
years of conventional thinking about international trade by
introducing the analytic tools of monopolistic competition is by now
something of a legend, thanks to two autobiographical essays as
forthcoming as any in economics:

>>How, feeling adrift, the 24-year-old assistant Yale professor returned to MIT 
>>in January 1978 to talk over various projects with his MIT thesis adviser, 
>>the late Rudiger Dornbusch. How, suitably encouraged, Krugman adapted a 
>>newly-invented model of product diversity to show how the logic of falling 
>>costs in high-tech industries might be used to make a strong case for 
>>protectionism in pursuit of export-led growth.

>>How his MIT teacher, Jagdish Bhagwati, overruled uncomprehending referees' 
>>reports and published Krugman's paper in the Journal of International 
>>Economics in 1979, even though it meant his own work would be eclipsed by 
>>that of his former student. How MIT hired him back from Yale, only two years 
>>out of graduate school.

>>How, after exploring the implications of his surprising findings in a pair of 
>>monographs with Harvard's Elhanan Helpman, Krugman turned his attention from 
>>trade to international finance, only to jump back into the monopolistic 
>>competition derby in 1990 with a series of papers culminating in another 
>>joint monograph about the significance of falling costs for economic 
>>geography.<<

Before 1980, exponents of infant industry protection and strategic
export promotion, especially in Europe and Asia, and their American
and European critics were routinely ruled out of court in technical
economics by the "law" of comparative advantage, and a series of
assumptions that more-or-less perfect competition among little firms
in markets for grain, wine and wool pretty much explained the way the
world works.

After "Increasing Returns, Monopolistic Competition and International
Trade" appeared in November 1979, economists tackled the machinations
of giant companies in multinational markets for automobiles, computers
and pharmaceuticals with new models of monopolistic competition. It
was a sudden and enormous gain in insight and relevance for a field
that had been on the verge of being elbowed aside by business
consultants and lawyers.

But the fact that the Swedish prize authorities moved Krugman's
contribution to trade theory to the top of their list, ahead of
several other skeins of earlier work in other fields that are awaiting
recognition, coupled with their decision to give it to him alone,
rather than also recognizing Helpman, of Harvard University, his
co-author in two influential monographs, was a clear indication that
the Swedes wanted to send a message along with the stardust:  that
they enjoy reading the penetrating and acerbic commentary that he
writes in his second career as a twice-a-week newspaper columnist.

The prize authorities have conferred honors with political overtones
before, most notably in 1986, when they made a sole award to James
Buchanan, for his work on government failure, withholding recognition
from his research partner Gordon Tullock, as well as from two other
students of different, though complementary problems, Richard Musgrave
and Janos Kornai, with whom Buchanan could have been creatively
paired. Sweden's finance minister, Kjell-Olof Feldt, was said to have
been a staunch advocate of honoring Buchanan alone, as a means of
calling attention to criticism of the Swedish welfare state.

The awards to Amartya Sen, in 1998, and Robert Mundell, in 1999, were
also viewed in some quarters as conveying political judgments, though
of very different sorts, essentially because vs. despite their outside
work. In contrast, the awards to Edward Phelps, Robert Lucas, Gary
Becker, Ronald Coase and Robert Solow, each of them singletons, were
for work whose influence operated almost entirely within the confines
of economics.

An especially good discussion of Krugman's work can be found in a
column by Avinash Dixit in the popular VoxEU site operated by the
Centre for Economic Policy Research. Dixit, of Princeton University,
is another of those whom the Swedes might have honored along with
Krugman.  He and Joseph Stiglitz, already a laureate, conceived in
1974 and published three years later the workhorse model of product
diversity that Krugman and others adopted to build that better
description of international trade. "He was the undisputed leader of
the group that took on this task…," writes Dixit. "He had the vision
to make the idea work in two ways, using it to make new discoveries
and by recognizing its implications as a far-reaching instrument for
transforming general attitudes."

(The award this year creates an interesting problem for the Swedes as
to how and when to recognize advances in growth economics that connect
to Krugman's work on trade, and do so as tightly as one interlocking
jigsaw piece to another. Dixit's proposed solution is to nominate a
ticket of Paul Romer, of the Stanford Institute for Economic Policy
Research, Harvard's Helpman, and Gene Grossman, of Princeton for next
year's prize.)

Meanwhile, the award provided a vivid illustration of the parallel
nature of work in the community of scientific economics, in the story
of Wilfred J. Ethier, of the University of Pennsylvania. Working on
more or less the same problems with the same tools, Ethier produced a
pair of highly significant papers in 1979 and 1982.  In terms of the
originality and scope of his ideas, Ethier often is judged by
colleagues to have penetrated more deeply to the international
division of labor that is the heart of the matter. In terms of
influence on other economists, however, he was a distant third –
partly because, being significantly older than the intense young
professor at Yale, he was of a different generation.  "I think they
did the right thing in picking Krugman alone," Ethier said last week.
"But it would have been a much more fortunate choice had it come last
year… or next year" – the better not to confuse the issue.

Which brings us back to Krugman's newspapering.

For decades, economists have written regularly for the public; Milton
Friedman and Paul Samuelson wrote dueling columns in the back of
Newsweek for more than fifteen years, and Samuelson still writes
regularly for European newspapers. Many others have followed in their
train.

But no economist in modern times has ever abandoned research in order
to take a day job on a newspaper until Krugman did it in 2000, leaving
MIT for the New York Times and a sinecure at Princeton's Woodrow
Wilson School of Public and International Affairs. (Long-time Times
columnist Leonard Silk was working in think-tanks before he joined
Business Week; MIT's Lester Thurow spent six months writing editorials
for the Times in 1980, but quickly returned to teaching.)

Krugman turned out to be a natural commentator – shrewd, energetic,
and often surpassingly well-informed. Within months, he was scoring
scoops, some of them of major proportions.  He was the first to
recognize that the California energy crisis involved deliberate
manipulation by some of the companies involved. He warned persuasively
of the vulnerabilities to fraud of new digital voting machines. He was
an early and perceptive critic of US strategy and tactics in Iraq. And
he has been brilliant on the economic crisis all along, especially in
the last six weeks, scouting out the shortcomings of the
administration's rescue plan as quickly as it had been proposed.

The problem is his tendency to write with prosecutorial zeal. Having
never really assimilated the cultural values of the news profession,
Krugman has a hard time being fair to those with whom he disagrees.
Dixit concedes that "I sometimes dislike his polemical and combative
style of writing at the same time as I agree with the substance of his
criticisms." I wrote in January, "Two words you won't find in
Krugman's dictionary are 'exculpatory evidence.'"

But Krugman's legion of fans feel differently. Paul Samuelson last
week told Catherine Rampell of the Times, "I praise today's prize as
being deserving and even overdue, but more than that I reproach the
Pulitzer committee, which owed him at least a couple of prizes in the
past. Paul Krugman is the only columnist in the United States who has
had it right on almost every count since the beginning."

True enough, as far as it goes. But in journalism, as in economics,
being right is not all that counts.  Intellectual honesty requires
something more complicated than that: a systematic marshalling, of not
just your own arguments, but the arguments of those with whom you
disagree, all the arguments, not just some. The Nobel prize attests
that Krugman met that test with flying colors in his work on trade.

But then formal methods in economics are designed to lead in that
direction. The goal in news is something far more provisional than
proof. Still, professional standards of fairness require that take
your opponents' views into account and state them as clearly as
possible along with your own, even within the limits of a 750-word
column, or a series of columns over time. It's not just what you say,
but the way that you say it.

Will Krugman win a Pulitzer Prize for commentary next spring? In
January, I doubted it, on the grounds that he can't keep his thumb off
the scale. Today, after so many perspicacious judgments, it is an even
more interesting question, one that has as much to do with the
freefall in which the newspaper industry finds itself as with the
columns themselves. Its resolution is something to look forward to in
April. Meanwhile, all bets are off.  It is easy to lose money
underestimating Paul Krugman.

[will an Oscar be next? a Grammy?]
-- 
Jim Devine /  "Nobody told me there'd be days like these / Strange
days indeed -- most peculiar, mama." -- JL.
_______________________________________________
pen-l mailing list
[email protected]
https://lists.csuchico.edu/mailman/listinfo/pen-l

Reply via email to