Brad Delong Replies to Jeff Weintraub and Myself (with my comments)
Brad writes:
Let me first
agree with Jeff and against Gavin that, to my knowledge at least, packs of
canids do cooperate and they do so by establishing what Ariel Rubenstein calls
a Jungle Equilibrium. They establish a
dominance hierarchy, and the highest-status members eat first until they are
full, with the lowest-status members facing the options of (a) challenging in
order to move up in the hierarchy and so eat sooner, (b) striking out on their
own and hoping to find another pack or survive alone, or (c ) hanging on and
hoping not to starve. Humans do this too, and in fact extend it--this is
Domination, Weber's Herrschaft,
Parsons's Imperative Coordination.
But humans also
engage in gift-exchange networks, with pure charity--transfer of resources in
exchange for recognition of status--at one end of the spectrum and with
arms'-length market exchange at the other.
And, Adam Smith
would say, humans also feel each other's pain: we do engage in pure acts of
benevolence.
And, Adam Smith
would say, humans are also educated to want to become the people they want to
be--to please the Impartial Spectator in their breasts. On this, the
appropriate passage comes from the Theory
of Moral Sentiments:
“Let us suppose that
the great empire of China, with all its myriads of inhabitants, was suddenly
swallowed up by an earthquake, and let us consider how a man of humanity in
Europe, who had no sort of connexion with that part of the world, would be
affected upon receiving intelligence of this dreadful calamity. He would, I
imagine, first of all, express very strongly his sorrow for the misfortune of
that unhappy people, he would make many melancholy reflections upon the
precariousness of human life, and the vanity of all the labours of man, which
could thus be annihilated in a moment. He would too, perhaps, if he was a man
of speculation, enter into many reasonings concerning the effects which this
disaster might produce upon the commerce of Europe, and the trade and business
of the world in general.
And when all this
fine philosophy was over, when all these humane sentiments had been once fairly
expressed, he would pursue his business or his pleasure, take his repose or his
diversion, with the same ease and tranquillity, as if no such accident had
happened.
The most frivolous
disaster which could befal himself would occasion a more real disturbance. If
he was to lose his little finger to-morrow, he would not sleep to-night; but,
provided he never saw them, he will snore with the most profound security over
the ruin of a hundred millions of his brethren, and the destruction of that
immense multitude seems plainly an object less interesting to him, than this
paltry misfortune of his own.
To prevent,
therefore, this paltry misfortune to himself, would a man of humanity be
willing to sacrifice the lives of a hundred millions of his brethren, provided
he had never seen them? Human nature startles with horror at the thought, and
the world, in its greatest depravity and corruption, never produced such a
villain as could be capable of entertaining it.
But what makes this
difference? When our passive feelings are almost always so sordid and so selfish,
how comes it that our active principles should often be so generous and so
noble? When we are always so much more deeply affected by whatever concerns
ourselves, than by whatever concerns other men; what is it which prompts the
generous, upon all occasions, and the mean upon many, to sacrifice their own
interests to the greater interests of others? It is not the soft power of
humanity, it is not that feeble spark of benevolence which Nature has lighted
up in the human heart, that is thus capable of counteracting the strongest
impulses of self-love. It is a stronger power, a more forcible motive, which
exerts itself upon such occasions. It is reason, principle, conscience, the
inhabitant of the breast, the man within, the great judge and arbiter of our conduct.
It is he who, whenever we are about to act so as to affect the happiness of
others, calls to us, with a voice capable of astonishing the most presumptuous
of our passions, that we are but one of the multitude, in no respect better
than any other in it; and that when we prefer ourselves so shamefully and so
blindly to others, we become the proper objects of resentment, abhorrence, and
execration. It is from him only that we learn the real littleness of ourselves,
and of whatever relates to ourselves, and the natural misrepresentations of
self-love can be corrected only by the eye of this impartial spectator. It is
he who shows us the propriety of generosity and the deformity of injustice; the
propriety of resigning the greatest interests of our own, for the yet greater
interests of others, and the deformity of doing the smallest injury to another,
in order to obtain the greatest benefit to ourselves. It is not the love of our
neighbour, it is not the love of mankind, which upon many occasions prompts us
to the practice of those divine virtues. It is a stronger love, a more powerful
affection, which generally takes place upon such occasions; the love of what is
honourable and noble, of the grandeur, and dignity, and superiority of our own
characters” [TMS III.3.4: 136-7].
In Books I and II
of WN, Smith definitely does write as if self-interest mediated by exchange is
at the foundation of the social order. But Adam Smith the moral philosopher (as
opposed to Adam Smith the proto-economist attempting to disrupt the 18th
century discipline of "political oeconomy") does not believe that.
And it is not true.
As I wrote back in 2012, your average
economist is not a "Hobbesian" believing that humans are motivated by
self-interest, but rather a "Lockeian", respecting others and their
spheres of autonomy and eager to enter into reciprocal gift-exchange
relationships, both one-offs mediated by cash alone and longer-run ones as
well:
First, your
standard economist is not "Hobbesian". He does not enter a butcher's
shop only when armed cap-a-pie and only with armed guards, fearing--as a
Hobbesian would--that the butcher will not sell him meat for money but will
rather:
*knock him
unconscious, * take his money, * slaughter him, * smoke him, and * sell him as
long pig.
A Hobbesian does
not buy and sell goods and services in mutually-beneficial Pareto-improving
exchange relationships. A Hobbesian finds the biggest bad-ass in the
neighborhood, and swears liege homage to that bad-ass in return for that
bad-ass's promising not to kill him.
Your standard
economist is, rather, a "Lockeian"--presumes that there is an
underlying order of property and ownership that is largely self-enforcing, that
requires only a "night watchman" to keep it stable and secure.
Now it is true
that your standard economist is a largely-unreflective Lockeian: does not
inquire why one trades rather than takes, affects the tough-guy pose that it is
only the repeated-game nature of economic interactions that keep us from always
winding up in the bad cell of the prisoner's dilemma, and adopts the reductio
that humans are narrowly self-interested only in material acquisition (in order
to strengthen the case that the social apparatus of voluntary market exchange
produces good outcomes--to make the point that even private vices produce
public benefits if they are constrained by the market). But that the standard
economist is a largely-unreflective Lockeian does not mean that they are a
Hobbesian.
When it comes to
what the standard economist thinks, I think that the example of Hal Varian cuts
the other way than Cosma thinks it does--or at least cuts ambiguously. Varian's
graduate micro textbook is the formalism: people don't just take stuff because
taking stuff is not in the strategy space. Varian's lectures and seminars are
considerably more nuanced. Varian and Shapiro's Information Rules is intended
for a business-school audience, and the object is to create barriers to entry
so that your firm can profit. When he teaches not in the business school but in
the economics department, Hal says, he still assigns Information Rules in his
antitrust, regulation, and industrial organization courses, but--in the
immortal words of Frederick von Frankenstein, he "changes plus to minus,
and minus to plus": not the creation but the destruction of barriers to
entry (as long as appropriate incentives are left for innovation) is the object.
Second, I do
agree that I do--and other economic historians do, and Bowles and Gintis do,
and McCloskey and Blaug do, and a bunch of the rest of us do--something
somewhat different than what your standard economist does. But I view what I do
as making the preconscious or the unconscious in "standard economics"
conscious. And I would appeal not to the formal theory of the graduate
textbooks, but to the actual practice of the economists I know as the test of
what "standard economics" is.
It is true that
back in my senior year of college it seemed to me that I was too shy to be
anything other than a professor and should become one. I looked around, and
discovered that the people applying for jobs as assistant professors of history
and social studies were 40-year-olds who had written two books while the people
applying for jobs as assistant professors of economics and social studies were
26-year-olds who had one half-written article. So it seemed a no-brainer to me
to go for a Ph.D. in economics. But the fact that I made that decision
demonstrates that I am a real economist after all: I regarded (and regard)
responsiveness to market forces as a moral virtue, while if I were really a
historian in disguise I would regard responsiveness to market forces as a moral
vice.
Third, it seems
to me that your standard political scientist's conception of the standard
economist as "Hobbesian" is an exercise not in interpretive
understanding but rather in disciplinary line-drawing--and, perhaps, attempted
disciplinary imperialism: if the core of economics can be defined to be as
small as possible, that leaves more space for political scientists to play.
Remember: there
are real Hobbesians about. They are the international-relations realists in
political science departments--not the economists in economics departments.
J. Bradford DeLong on July 10, 2013
Comment
Mainly
in response to Brad but also slightly to Jeff (I received from Jeff a private
message that he is travelling en route to a family vacation and will respond
publicly to my criticism of his contribution later).
First,
I should clear up the “pack-hunting” issue common to both Brad and Jeff. There is no real fundamental difference
between us; I just think that Brad And Jeff leave something out. I wrote:
“The essence of the pack chase is mutual co-operation,
but it is not intentional. If a dog sees a desirable target it will set off and
chase it; others nearby see the target, or are alerted to it by dogs joining a
chase; they too join the chase. A melee commences as soon as one dog catches
the target. The co-operation is limited to the chase; then its down to every
dog for itself.”
For
deception, Smith would have had to deliberately know differently and suppress
the truth because if he knew it so did others. I suggested that a) he did not
have the fuller information about primates now known widely that we have today
(dominance hierarchies, primate behaviours, pack hunting in the wild, etc.,),
and b) he did comment on reports of how packs of monkeys raiding an orchard for
fruit in concert, and then falling out over the non-peaceful division of the
spoils, with some getting killed in the melee.
Whereas hunting with dogs in
fox hunts was more of an English than a Scottish experience, he may have
witnessed them in his time at Oxford, where the concert of the chase ends in
the no-concert of melee at the kill.
Today, those hunting with hounds and the disorder of final hunt melees
are shown regularly on TV (hunting foxes with dogs is now illegal).
Brad
reminds us of modern knowledge (not necessarily known in systematic detail to
Smith), to which Brad writes ‘”to
my knowledge at least”, “packs of
canids do cooperate and they do so by establishing what Ariel Rubenstein calls
a Jungle Equilibrium. They establish a
dominance hierarchy, and the highest-status members eat first until they are
full, with the lowest-status members facing the options of (a) challenging in
order to move up in the hierarchy and so eat sooner, (b) striking out on their
own and hoping to find another pack or survive alone, or (c ) hanging on and
hoping not to starve. Humans do this too, and in fact extend it--this is
Domination, Weber's Herrschaft,
Parsons's Imperative Coordination.”
This is an example of Brad’s (and Jeff’s) impressive erudition, but
misses Smith’s point that the behaviour of domesticated dogs around their human
masters is largely “an appeal to their
"benevolence" by begging and "fawning”.
Brad
asks rhetorically: “Is that second option the only way dogs ever do it?” To
which, within the example that Smith gives and, having excluded the possibility
that they “bargain” like or with humans, and because they do not bargain with
each other, it is the only option he can give. Nobody surely is deceived.
Brad
and Jeff draw upon some long periods of research in the 20th century
in which more details have been observed and systemized into coherent accounts,
beyond, I submit, Smith’s knowledge.
But
even here, if Smith’s, and everybody else’s knowledge at the time was limited,
nobody was deceived. Smith visited
no ‘jungles’ to observe their ‘equilibria’ nor read about it a century or more
later in ‘Weber’s Herrschaft’ or ‘Parson’s Imperative Co-ordination’.
On
this basis, I object to Jeff’s charge of Smith’s ‘conscious deception’, though
obviously I could accept that he was “wrong”, especially if he was writing (and
teaching) his students a comprehensive and fully exhaustive account of all the
possible means available to humans to ‘co-ordinate’ their behaviours and the
resulting actions. He did not
In
this respect, I return to the example of canids hunting in packs. I think Brad is looking at melees of
dogs, primates, and even human in behaviour sets as somewhat too neat and tidy
for the real world. He quotes Ariel Rubenstein on a “Jungle Equilibrium”:
“They
establish a dominance hierarchy, and the highest-status members eat first until
they are full, with the lowest-status members facing the options of (a)
challenging in order to move up in the hierarchy and so eat sooner, (b)
striking out on their own and hoping to find another pack or survive alone, or
(c ) hanging on and hoping not to starve.”
If
Brad can quote from studies a couple of centuries later, I feel able to suggest
additional evidence of what also happens. (I did not discuss the literature on
“dominance hierarchies”, not considering it relevant to Smith’s alleged
“deception” in the 18th century).
Goodall,
and others, discuss primate behaviours within their dominance hierarchies in
the wild. When a chimpanzee
pack is aroused, of course the dominant alpha males grab the main shares, but
there is no question of the middle or lowest ranks awaiting until the alphas
have eaten their fill, like well behaved, polite subordinates. They are roughly
forced away by alpha violence. Suborinates too are excited by the kill and try
to sneak snatches of the kill, including blood drops where they can. There is much pushing and shoving from
injuries inflicted and sustained by the alphas hitting out. Dominance lasts as long as its
behaviours succeed in intimidating the submission of the lower-ranks. Females in estrus try sexual temptation
by presenting themselves to alpha males and to any other males that snatch meat
dropped from the melee. Some
ambitious males take advantage of the melee to take 12 second opportunities for
sex, including I might add using deception too. In short, it is an opportunity for subordinate disorder, not
orderly queuing.
Humans
in the most disciplined armies could sack a city and prudent officers would
leave them to go with their blood-lust until order was restored by officers
using punitive field punishments – mainly random executions of rioters.
But
Smith’s focus was on how domesticated dogs, not undomesticated wild animals
(such as Scottish Wild Cats), persuade their masters to feed them. Sturdy
Beggars likewise use similar methods appealing to benevolence to get food and
old cast-off clothes from regular citizens. The King used various forms of compulsory taxation to fill
his treasuries – still do, as immoderate Libertarians remind us.
In
the cases that Smith considered of the viable alternatives in a two-options
world, exchange by bargaining in WN, and exchange by persuasion in TMS, was
presented by Adam Smith without intentional deception (the only form that meets
the meaning of deception).
Lastly,
I would suggest that Brad’s statement that
“Smith
definitely does write as if self-interest mediated by exchange is at the
foundation of the social order” should be carefully unpicked because many
modern economists read that assertion in the belief that “self-interest” is
pure and unrelenting in it application.
I have commented on Lost Legacy many times that such an extreme, even
brutal, position does not represent Smith’s more nuanced meaning. In so far as
Brad wisely differentiates between what he labels the "Hobbesian"
versus the “Lockean” meanings of self-interest, I think I agree with Brad. But I reserve my position until I
understand the significance of the implications he draws from this.
[I ceased lecturing in
economic theory (micro-and macro) in Strathclyde University in Glasgow 1987 and moved to Heriot-Watt
University in Edinburgh, somewhat disillusioned with neo-classical economics
(the Max U model), and gravitated from my research professorship in defence
finance at Heriot-Watt to the foundation of Edinburgh Business School in 1995, where I taught Negotiation
to MBA students, using my development of Adam Smith’s conditional bargaining
insights until 2005 when I retired and now research on Adam Smith's Work and life. Hence, my interest in
these aspects of his work, traceable in both TMS and WN, though ignored by most
modern economists using coercion-conflict models (Zeuthen, Hicks, Pen, etc.,) because
its two-dimensional mindset fits Max U thinking, though not the experience of
the real world].
2 Comments:
I don't know if I agree that Hobbes can be written off so completely within economic thought -
If the various human relationships stylized by Smith as exchange, charity, and command-and-conrol, can be understood as standing on a sliding scale (and I do think there is evidence for this in Smith's text - e.g., his reference to the collusion of guilds, differential bargaining power between entrepreneurs and workers, corporations, etc., all of which incorporate elements of command-and-control within exchange relationships), then economics then begins to incorporate elements of Hobbes.
I.e., people use the power they find to hand to get what they want. Sometimes all the "power" they have is to convince another an exchange is in their self interest. Sometimes...more is available. Within organized political bodies (unlike Hobbes' state of nature) robbery is not *always* the most rational option. Nevertheless, human beings, with their self interest being what it is, will seek "power after power" using the tools available, making a rational choice about what kind of power can best be used to accomplish their aims. In other words -- if we can understand "power" as including, among other things, our ability to acquire an item that someone else wants and to convince them that exchange is beneficial, then Hobbes slips in quite easily in situations of unequal bargaining power.
I don't think that non (physically) violent exchange enters a realm different from what Hobbes would anticipate. Indeed, Hobbes from the very beginning believed that man was a somewhat rational creature that (and please forgive me the overly simplified, rough terminology) cost-benefit analysis in order to achieve their ends. Indeed, Hobbes postulated the formation of a state based on rationality - the absolute monarch was the product of a kind of cost-benefit analysis: we get more from agreeing to a police state than from battling it out among ourselves. So, there is no reason to expect that, under Hobbes' line of thinking, we wouldn't make the same kind of calculation on a more "micro" scale.
The very problem now with economics is that they fail to recognize just how very Hobbesian they are. If they called a duck a duck, they would recognize that certain "anticompetitive" behavior (such as, for example, the kind vindicated by Schumpeter, i.e., price fixing, long term contracts, buying up of patents, etc) is not just a manifestation of Smithian exchange, but also mixed with social and market power. That is Hobbes.
To say it is not Hobbes, I suspect, may work to prevent an honest discussion about what our world really looks like and whether it is something we really want. We start thinking in terms that presume a background of equal exchange, autonomy, and liberty.
Kate
Thank you for your remarks which I read with interest.
However, I said, almost en passant while discussing the issues raised by Brad Delong and Jeff Weintraub:
“In so far as Brad wisely differentiates between what he labels the "Hobbesian" versus the “Lockean” meanings of self-interest, I think I agree with Brad. But I reserve my position until I understand the significance of the implications he draws from this. “
My position stands until Brad, should he choose to do so, responds and elaborates their significance. However, you have raised some issues, common in post-graduate philosophy tutorials and also occasionally at history of economic thought conferences.
I find both sides of the argument between Hobbes and Locke less than satisfactory, though I am less convinced that Hobbes was (broadly) right than I am that Locke was not closer to the truth.
The only central thought running through Smith’s conjectures about the past history of humans was that of the “propensity to truck, barter, and exchange”, accepting that he was too parochial when justifying his extending back into pre-history his selection of the “truck and barter” part along with the more relevant propensity to “exchange” in regard of humans. Smith was a prisoner of his 18th-century view of human society.
Now exchange is a far broader phenomenon than “trade”. It plays a role in his lectures on the origin of language (in both his original article in 1761 and in his Lectures On Rhetoric and Belles Lettres”, 1762), and, of course, in his conjectures about the deep past of the division of labour.
His Lectures on jurisprudence (1762-3) provide insights into his ideas about the early formation of government (for the defence of property ‘against the poor’, missing in my view the even more significant defence of property against other rich and conspiring relatives), the distinctive differences between either Hobbes or Locke.
In this regard, I consider wemay not agree on the issues you raise so eloquently.
Gavin
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