From the beginning, the "Anomalies" column
was probably the most popular feature in the Journal of Economic
Perspectives. That non-technical journal was founded in 1987
by the American Economic Association with a view to filling a
gap between the enormous volume of published economic research
and the writing about it that appeared in the popular press.
Cornell University professor Richard Thaler took
his title from historian of science Thomas Kuhn, who had written
that those troublesome facts which existing theory could not accommodate
were the royal road to scientific revolution.
There followed a steady stream of articles. Thaler
wrote about the Winner's Curse (the tendency of the most optimistic
to overpay in winning auctions), the Ultimatum Game (a powerful
new tool in bargaining experiments), and the various mental accounts
that most of us keep to defeat what otherwise would be the predicted
fungibility of money -- current income, retirement income, special
items and so on.
He solicited distinguished co-authors to write
with him on the latest research advances: Amos Tversky on preference
reversals, Daniel Kahneman and Jack Knetsch on loss aversion,
William Ziemba on pari-mutuel betting at racetracks and lotteries.
Eventually the pieces were collected in 1992 in The
Winner's Curse. And in an article
a couple of years ago, Thaler summed up his view of the prospects
for economics in the 21st century.
Evolution, not revolution, would be the rule --
from "Homo Economicus" to "Homo Sapiens,"
as economists increasingly incorporated cognition, emotion, learning
in their models.
Last week Thaler was in Stockholm, cheering as
his friend Daniel Kahneman shared the Nobel Award in Economics.
He didn't win the prize, but he helped create the circumstances
in which it was easy to give.
As Vernon Smith, the other winner, put it, "The
focus on anomalies, beginning in the 1970s, converted the emerging
discovery enterprise into a search for contradictions between
[various] sorts of behavior and the results of mainstream theory."
Today behavioral economics is a booming field.
The Russell Sage Foundation sponsors a summer institute
at the University of California at Berkeley. The MacArthur Foundation
supports a research network
on the nature and origin of preferences. Harvard's most recent
big-name appointment in economics is David
Laibson, one of the leaders of the new field. Other universities
are scrambling to keep up. And Thaler
himself has become professor of behavioral science and economics
at the University of Chicago's Graduate School of Business
* * *
The lectures in Stockholm did not disappoint. You
can see them for yourself in webcasts on the Nobel Museum site.
Kahneman's lecture
in particular is a masterful introduction to "the ideas that
were in the back of our minds when we started thirty years ago"
(most of his work was jointly done with the late Amos Tversky).
Indeed, by an intertwining of spartan analysis with computer-generated
illustrations, accounts of pointed experiments and dabs of intellectual
history, Kahneman's talk more nearly resembles a star performance
than a traditional lecture -- 38 minutes that pass like 17.
The US-Israeli economist, who teaches at Princeton
University, gives a lucid account of the differences between intuitive
thinking and analysis. Intuitive insight is a powerful searchlight
-- it serves equally the chess grandmaster and those who are sure-footed
in social situations. But it involves fairly basic representations,
with little extra explanation or computation. There is much to
be learned by going beyond.
He offers the example of a deck of cards. The size
of a single card and the volume of the deck itself are apparent
immediately on inspection. But the total surface area of all the
cards requires a further investigation. Intuitive thinking zeroes
in easily on averages, Kahneman says, but it has difficulty with
sums. This leads to a general insensitivity to the size of a set
-- the amount of a good, the size of a sample, the rate of an
outcome, the duration of an episode.
"The similarity of results obtained in very
diverse studies suggests that the same mechanism is at work in
all cases," he said -- a tendency to certain systematic errors
in decision-making. Unlike economics, he says, psychology does
not have a unified formal theory. But the few general principles
of perceptual and cognitive function it has contributed so far
can predict and explain a wide array of behavior, and, "to
some extent, help bridge the gap between psychology and economics."
Smith, a professor at George Mason University,
tells a somewhat more complicated story in his lecture.
Distinguishing between two kinds of rationality -- "constructivist"
and "ecological" -- he makes a provocative case that
economics has ignored much of what is most interesting about what
it means to be human. His is an audacious program -- to pose a
"reciprocal" motive to the familiar self-interest of
"rational" choice. It is probably better to wait to
read the paper. But the quotation from Hayek with which he begins
is succinct enough.
"We must constantly adjust our lives, our
thoughts and our emotions, in order to live simultaneously within
different kinds of orders, according to different rules. If we
were to apply the unmodified, uncurbed rules of caring intervention
to do visible good for the small band, or troop, or our families,
to the extended order of cooperation through markets, as our instincts
and sentimental yearnings often make us wish to do, we would destroy
it. Yet if we were always to apply the non-cooperative rules of
the extended order to our own more intimate groupings, we would
crush them."
* * *
The Nobel Award for Economics, first presented
in 1969, has been a mostly good thing. It builds consensus about
what we think we know. But one bad outcome is the chasm it creates
between the anointed and the 50 or so could-be economists around
the world who find their relative standing diminished while they
dwell in the half-lit penumbra of the shortlist, perhaps forever.
One of these is Edmund Phelps, a Columbia University professor
who has been at or near the center of nearly almost every interesting
argument in economics since the early 1960s.
Not long after 9/11/01, "Ned" Phelps
was honored in an extraordinary meeting in New York. For two days,
freshwater and saltwater economists mixed and mingled as if bubbling
from a single spring, to celebrate his long career. Phelps invented
the so called "golden rule" of capital accumulation
(put yourself in the place of later generations when discounting
in the present), wrote about technical change, explored the self-perpetuating
nature of business slumps, and delved deeply into the nature of
work.
Most famously, writing from the left, he demolished
the Phillips curve, with its supposedly reliable trade-off between
unemployment and inflation. Milton Friedman made many of the same
arguments separately from the right. Phelps even wrote a famously
entertaining (and demanding) introductory economics text, displaying
his love of old movies and opera.
Now you can see for yourself. Editors Philippe
Aghion, Roman Frydman, Joseph Stigliz and Michael Woodford fought
off the deadly temptation to do two volumes and instead boiled
the papers from the conference down to fifteen chapters in a
single book with the title "Knowledge, Information and
Expectations in Modern Macroeconomics." Paul Samuleson wrote
the preface. The result is that professional economists and their
students will be able to see the man clearly for years to come.
* * *
A few last words about soon-to-be former Treasury
Secretary Paul O'Neil. His friends wondered at the time of his
appointment why he wasn't named director of the Office of Management
and Budget, where during the Ford Administration he had risen
to deputy director. As head of OMB, O'Neill probably would have
been one of the conspicuous successes of the administration.
But George Bush decided he had to find a spot for
Mitchell Daniels, the former Eli Lilly senior vice president who
at one point had been Ronald Reagan's political director. When OMB
turned out to be the only place Daniels would fit, that left Treasury
to O'Neill. One friend says, "We probably all should have
seen how this would end."
Remember, however, the strained circumstances in
which the Bush administration came to power. Reasonable persons
will give nominees John Snow and Stephen Friedman the benefit
of the doubt before leaping to the conclusion that the White House
doesn't give a damn about good economic policies.