Thursday, March 22, 2012

You may sit, Adam

Rare thing, insight. Rarer still, humour. A natural derivation from these two axioms: humour and insight in one must be rarest. Ronald Coase has it in spades. Spades.

Economic writing isn't usually fun to read. Most economists aren't really all that interesting. Connection? I think so. The best have this quality to their writing - it shimmers, it shines, it grows from the page, a living breathing entity. The writing has that most important element - zip.

So, for your pleasure and mine, here is a case study taken from the 1990 Nobel Symposium on Contract Economics. (By the by, do read. Such a collection of economists, all commenting on each others work. Coase (duh), Alchian, Demsetz, Stiglitz, Cheung, Williamson, Hart, Holmstrom, Rosen, gosh!). Ronald Coase was called to give closing remarks:

"When Professor Werin asked me if I could be a member of this panel, I agreed, but he didn't tell me what my duty would be...I was quite happy with the arrangement...it meant I couldn't be upbraided for not carrying out what I had agreed to do, since I hadn't agreed to do anything."
zing!

"When we move to the legal system...it is not easy at all to say what the legal system is actually doing...the only generalization one can make is that if a change is made it will increase the income of the lawyers..." zing!

"In the rest of economics the existence of markets and firms is assumed...what in effect we do is study the circulation of the blood without a body" zing!

"From my point of view the chapter I enjoyed most was that of Rosen and the reason was that it was a survey of empirical studies...I read it and was fascinated...when the studies agreed I was puzzled and when they disagreed I was puzzled. This is how we got hold of things." zing!

"Williamson...felt that...good work had been done and we need not be ashamed...Well, I agree...that old puzzle of how you describe things: is the glass one-tenths full or nine-tenths empty? I happen to think it is nine-tenths empty at the present. Oliver Williamson has reason to be pleased...since a large part of it is the water he put in..." zing!

In all of this, outside of the superficial though enjoyable comedy, there are lessons buried in the words. They are not there by accident: how do you specify a closing speech? (you can't, but yet you have to); what is the point of law anyway? (it is really not clear); how do we write models in economics? (false metaphors can kill the patient i.e. the economy); how do we know things? (by measuring them); has progress been made? (yes, but in one dimension). I know of few economists (Lucas' and Solow's Nobel Lectures come to mind; most stridently McCloskey of course makes her presence) who can write with such eloquence, such precision and humour. They are teachers, all.