BERLIN -- It was all Brahms
and cheerful possibility here last week, as the fifteen nations
of the European Union became The Twenty Five.
Beleaguered Daimler-Chrysler
Corp. flew the Berlin Philharmonic to Athens to perform in
front of the Acropolis. Countless mayors trod bridges to their
midpoints to shake hands with their counterparts from the
nation opposite. Even Eine Linke Geschichte, the cabaret Doonesbury here that has periodically added
skits since 1983, ended its May Day performance with a cascade
of pan-European jokes -- substituting, for example, Bach's
"Jauchzet Frohlocket" from the Christmas Oratorio for the familiar "Ode
to Joy" that is the official European Hymn. Everybody
laughed.
Then everyone returned to
the hard realities facing the new Europe.
Nowhere was the basic problem
more apparent last week, at least in miniature, than in France.
A premier mathematical economist at the height of his powers
defected from France's most famous university to the University
of Kansas, taking the editorship of a leading journal with
him.
Meanwhile, Jean-Jacques Laffont,
probably the best economist in Europe and the man who, perhaps
as much as any single figure could, fruitfully addressed the
central European problem, died from cancer and was buried
in Toulouse. He was 57.
The loss to France and Europe
was incomparably great.
That the French
commitment to science of all sorts is being tested there can
be no doubt. The story has been followed closely for the past
year by Science magazine.
Just weeks after French scientists
declared victory in what had been described as their biggest
crisis in decades, Panthéon-Sorbonne
professor Bernard Cornet announced that he was leaving Paris
next month to join the department of economics in Lawrence,
Kansas.
In April, the government
narrowly averted a strike by more than half of the 3500 public
lab chiefs, mostly biomedical researchers, many of them competitive
in world science. Their complaint: top-heavy hierarchy and
chronic stringent budget cuts.
The scientists
folded their protest after government promised to create 550
new scientific positions and another 1,000 university jobs,
and to unfreeze various budgets. Research minister Claudie
Haigneré held out the possibility of a new national
science foundation, to fund research proposals rather than
labs.
"This is a
big day for French research," said cell biologist Alain
Trautman, a spokesperson for the protestors. "We have
stopped the hemorrhage...."
But they didn't
stop Bernard Cornet.
Cornet is editor of the Journal
of Mathematical Economics, and a senior figure in a field
that represents a small but important part of technical economics.
In Paris he has supervised the work of a steady stream of
graduate students, many of whom are now faculty members at
leading universities.
Presumably there are deep
stories in the intrigue surrounding his surprise departure.
No doubt they will surface in Paris over time.
It is, however, no secret what
happened in Lawrence, Kansas. A wealthy alumnus, Charley Oswald
(yes, Charley is his given name), donated $10 million to his
alma mater three years ago -- with $6 million earmarked for the
economics department and $3 million for the business school.
A 1951 economics graduate, Oswald made a fortune inventing
test-grading software for schools.
After a search, the Kansas
department first hired William A. Barnett from Washington
University, in St. Louis, another leading mathematical economist.
(He is editor of the journal Macroeconomic Dynamics.) Then
last week they hired microeconomist Cornet. The offer was
understood to be several times his Paris salary. An architect
is said to be designing his suite of offices.
In a somewhat similar fashion,
Vanderbilt University earlier this year hired Myrna Wooders
from the University of Warwick. She is co-editor of the Journal
of Public Economics Theory, and she joins fellow editor John
Conley, who arrived in Nashville two years ago from the University
of Illinois.
Such negotiations in US universities
usually are package deals. Perhaps they work best in fields
such as math-econ, where driving distance to a good airport
counts more than a well-rounded department. (It is 52 miles
from Lawrence to Kansas City airport, while Nashville has
a good airport of its own).
Who knows what, if anything,
a Kansas-Vanderbilt rivalry might portend? Mathematical economics
is a somewhat abstruse pursuit, often closer to mathematics
than to economics -- witness the fact that, despite their
influential positions, only Wooders among the four editors
is as yet a fellow of the Econometric Society, the semi-official
inner circle of the profession.
The point is that such bidding-contests
among institutions are almost entirely prohibited in Paris.
One account has it that, for reasons going back to the French
Revolution, a severe separation between church and universities
is still enforced, especially at the prestigious Sorbonne,
spilling over to prohibit bequests by private individuals
as well.
French universities are entirely
funded by the state, and even local governments cannot provide
separate funds. Within universities, competition for resources
is prohibited for the most part as well, with professors'
salaries based on seniority rather than research or teaching
success. Salaries are a fraction of what they are in the United
States.
No wonder, then, that many
of the best French economics professors are teaching in the
U.S., including Nobel laureate Gerard Debreu, at the University
of California at Berkeley; Roland Benabou and Patrick Bolton,
at Princeton; Olivier Blanchard, at the Massachusetts Institute
of Technology; Phillipe Aghion, at Harvard; and Pierre-Andre
Chiappori, at the University of Chicago.
It is precisely against this
backdrop that the achievement of Jean-Jacques Laffont must
be assessed. Here is what Eric Maskin of the Institute for
Advanced Studies in Princeton had to say last week.
"The
thing to say about Laffont is that he had three separate identities,
and performed at the highest level in all three.
"First, he was one of
the greatest economists of our time.
"Second, as an intellectual
entrepreneur, he assembled the finest group of economic talent
in Europe -- starting from scratch -- in Toulouse.
"Third, as a administrator/rainmaker
he showed that a top-quality research institute can thrive
in Europe as an essentially private outfit.
"Any one of these accomplishments
would have been enough to mark him as a leading figure,"
Maskin said.
The work with Harvard's Jerry
Green on incentives in public decision-making inspired an
enormous literature, he said. The monograph with Jean Tirole
on the regulation of natural monopolies did the same -- and
changed policy, nationally and internationally as well.
Finally, Maskin concluded,
Laffont's work on the causes and consequences of collusion
among members of bureaucratic and corporate hierarchies, a
collaboration with David Martimort, has just begun to pay
off.
The rise to prominence of
Laffont's Institut
D'Economie Industrielle, affiliated with the university
in the old industrial city of Toulouse is, as yet, still little
understood. Eventually, it holds the promise of a model freeing
other European universities -- the economics centers in Barcelona,
Milan, Munich, Bonn, Louvain, Tilburg and Stockholm, for example
-- to compete for talent on an equal basis for faculty with
their more entrepreneurial cousins in the United States.
It seems fair to say that
the combination of software magnate Charley Oswald's money
and various economists' brains means that another tall tree
will grow in Lawrence, Kansas. The University of Kansas will
enjoy enhanced stature among American land-grant universities.
The result of Laffont's efforts,
however, has been to plant an entire young forest in Toulouse
-- practical, balanced and diverse. If it grows to maturity,
it will show the way to the kind of public-private rough-and-tumble
funding that has worked so well to produce the university
system in the United States.
For the central European problem
in a nutshell is a lingering, totally unrealistic expectation
of what the state can do. There is far too little private
funding -- of retirement systems, of health care, of research
and of teaching. It will take at least a generation if not
more to build a truly mixed economy. Meanwhile, expect the
interplay of the strategies of voice and exit illustrated
by Laffont and Cornet to continue.