Leave Adam Smith Alone!

My recently completed economic history course in Geezer College (aka Senior University) has sensitized me to six great economists: Adam Smith, David Ricardo, Joseph Schumpeter, John Maynard Keynes, John Kenneth Galbraith, and Milton Friedman. I am always on the lookout for some good ol' revisionism. If this is (fair & balanced) contrarianism, so be it.

[x The Scotsman]
Let's re-examine what Adam Smith really said
by Gavin Kennedy

Will the real Adam Smith stand up, please? There certainly are plenty of phoney versions on parade whenever his name is mentioned.

Some on the Right brazenly saw in Smith’s name an authority against much of what he opposed on moral grounds. He was cited to oppose shorter working hours, to continue employing women and children in coal mines and dark satanic mills, even in defence of slavery. Smith allegedly advised against interference in the business of business.

The cries went up - Laissez faire! Leave the mine and mill owners alone! They know best. The invisible hand will come right in the end. It’s all in Smith’s Wealth of Nations. Interfere at your peril.

Some on the Left naively saw Smith as a compelling authority in favour of state intervention. Wilberforce quoted him against slavery, a practice Smith opposed on moral and economic grounds. Others quoted his support for the government to fund a school in every village so that each child would become literate and numerate. But they did not like his moral sentiments or his political economy.

The distortions of Smith’s views have conquered popular discourse. Libertarians on the Right vie with voices on the Left and sling quotations out of context - they long since gave up reading his books.

The distortions began shortly after Smith died in 1790. The bloody excesses of French Terror in 1793 rocked the British establishment. Ten years earlier, the Americans had forced Britain out of its 13 colonies. While the American Republic was far away, the French version was only a few miles from Dover.

A panicky state investigated Smith’s friends, searching for evidence that his books were likely to incite British mobs to follow the French example. For his friends it was too close for comfort. Leaders of mobs got 14 years’ transportation and there was no assurance Smith’s supporters would fair better, for social ostracism in their world was as serious as a voyage to Botany Bay.

Adam Smith was a moral philosopher who also wrote about political economy. Over the years economics has become a branch of applied mathematics. Smithian moral sentiments were dumped, along with his political economy. His Wealth of Nations adorns the shelves of academe, safely unread by those who should know better. Like his grave just off the High Street in Edinburgh, his legacy is neglected. Worse, it has been purloined.

Smith never wrote a word about "capitalism", yet he is hailed as the "high priest of capitalism". He is the "father of modern economics" though he would find much in today’s economics unrecognisable as his progeny . He is alleged to be an advocate of "Laissez Faire" though he never used these words and claims that he used English equivalents are tenuous. He did not believe it advisable to leave merchants and manufacturers alone, because they were likely to form monopolies, restrict supply and raise prices.

Smith took the long view of society’s development. He was never in favour of quick fixes. He considered stability in society more important than correcting even serious deficiencies too quickly. He took a historical view and his books are full of references to classical Greece and Rome and what they taught about government, moral conduct and economic growth, and the need for natural liberty and justice.

The "new" economy he discussed in Wealth of Nations was not new to him. He saw a growing commercial society as a revival of the commerce of western Europe that had been overrun by barbarian hordes. His inquiry into the wealth of nations was like a one-man Royal commission, a tour de force, drawing on evidence over the millennia since the fall of Rome and from contemporary evidence he analysed in painstaking detail.

Commerce was a revival, not a new revolution. From commerce, established on a prosperous and improved agricultural base, opulence would spread deep into society, itself poverty-stricken to a degree we cannot imagine today. Scotland was a backward, ignorant and fractious country; England was slightly better. But both would rise out of their stagnation if commerce was unburdened from the mercantile politics lasting since the Middle Ages.

Smith disapproved of colonies as expensive ways to buy what could be bought in markets. Unnecessary wars to revenge slights on the King’s ministers rather than matters of substance were on a scale of prodigality he railed against. He preferred investment and jobs in productive activity that increased wealth. Not that he was a pacifist. Defence was the "first duty of the government" to protect society from barbaric neighbours.

He saw society as becoming naturally harmonious through the intense dependence of each person on the labour of every other person and taught that the propensity to "truck, barter and exchange" led to people serving their own interests best by serving the interests of others from whom they needed daily necessities.

That is his true legacy, the melding of his moral sentiments with liberty, justice and his economics. It is time his legacy was claimed back.

Gavin Kennedy is a professor at Edinburgh Business School and author of Adam Smith’s Lost Legacy, published today by Palgrave Macmillan.

Copyright © 2005 The Scotsman

Hugo Is Right And Wrong!

I gave up the lecture pretty early in my so-called career at the Collegium Excellens. For one thing, saying the same damn thing over and over five times in a couple of days would cause someone to be institutionalized (or doped up on Thorazine) in any other context. For another, I found it boring. Most lecturers at the Collegium read — in essence — to their classes out of a different textbook. Dirty little secret: more than one textbook salesman told me that Thomas A. Bailey's The American Pageant was the lecturers' book of choice because Bailey included a lot of "humorous" anecdotes that made the "lecturer" appear witty. So, most "lecturers" in the history survey course read Bailey to their classes and assigned another non-Bailey text to their classes. Elsewhere in this blog, I proclaimed my affinity for the late Professor Lionel Basney who used the metaphor of the standup comedian for a college teacher. Improv is edgy. Improv is dangerous. Improv is addictive. Why did Lenny Bruce keep doing his act in the face of police persecution? In addition to heroin, Bruce was addicted to standing before an audience and saying whatever came to mind. I agree with Professor Schwyzer's indictment of ed-degrees. I disagree with his rejection of technology. At the Collegium, all of my fraudulent colleagues lectured out of Bailey and tried to pass his stories off as their own. I embraced technology; at the end, the final class schedule carrying my name showed all five of my sections of U.S. history as hybrid courses. That meant that the course was a combination of in-class and online material. No other teacher at the Collegium could claim that "distinction." If this is (fair & balanced) idiocyncrisy, so be it.

[x HNN]
CLIOPATRIA: A Group Blog
The Luddite within
by Hugo Schwyzer

Today, we had our monthly noon Social Sciences Division faculty meeting. As usual, I stayed quiet, though I perked up a bit during a brief discussion of the new Internet filters. (All of my colleagues are adamantly opposed.)

But then we launched into another discussion about creating "smart classrooms." This has nothing to do with real teaching, mind you. A "smart classroom" is one filled with all sorts of technological gizmos: DVD players, wireless Internet access, various modern projectors, and lots of something called Power Point. I am now convinced I am the only tenured professor in America under 40 who has no idea what Power Point is. To me, it sounds like a basketball term (wasn't Magic Johnson kind of a "power point" guard at 6'9"?). Anyhow, my colleagues all seem to be busy showing videos (or DVDs) and creating fancy Power Point projects for their classes. It all sounds dreadfully dull, and I'm just not interested.

I show -- maybe -- one or two videos a year. When I first started teaching, I showed a lot of them -- largely because I was afraid I wouldn't have enough to say. Now, God help me and my students, I have plenty to say. I know damn well that my students spend enough time interacting with technology outside school; the last thing they need is to sit mutely in front of a TV screen. I'm not saying that videos don't have their place -- in an art history class, I would imagine that they would be essential, but too often I think they (and all the other fancy-shmancy stuff) are just cover-ups for mediocre teaching.

I am sick and tired of having folks with doctorates in education (Lord help us) tell me that "lecturing is an outdated teaching style." Well, it's still a damned effective teaching style if it's done well. I put a lot of time and energy into crafting articulate, interesting, lectures, largely because I believe that for most students, it remains the most effective and memorable way to learn. I do invite discussion and debate in some of my classes, and I welcome questions -- but I cling tenaciously to the old-school notion that my job is to be an interesting, compelling, and provocative deliverer of information. (And along the way, raise up young feminists and pro-feminists.)

The content of the information varies: today, at 8:50AM, I lectured on the 20th century drop in age of menarche (from over 16 to under 12), and its impact on American girlhood. At 10:25, I lectured on the concept of arete and the relationship between Hector and Andromache. And at 1:00PM, it was time for Charles II, James II, and the Glorious Revolution. (Ya gotta love the community colleges with the breadth and diversity of the teaching loads!) Especially with the first topic, I invited questions and discussion. It's vital that mine not be the only voice heard in the classroom, especially in the gender studies courses. But though it was an interactive forum, mine was still the dominant voice. I'm not ashamed of that, though from the sort of exasperating edu-speak I hear from some of my well-meaning colleagues, I am apparently hopelessly out-of-date.

One thing that would improve college teaching immensely would be mandatory drama and speech classes for all new faculty. Forget the expensive technology. Teach them how to use their voices, how to modulate their tones, how to string together an exciting narrative without notes. Teach them to make the passion that is surely inside them manifest in their words and in their movements. Teach them the forgotten art of the genuinely engaging lecture. Twelve years of college teaching (and over 120 classes taught in that time), as well as thousands of student evaluations, have made it clear to me that students really prefer a professor who is willing to bring his passion and energy into the classroom.

This is not to say that good teachers can't be both great lecturers and skilled employers of the latest technology. I have a few colleagues -- a very few -- whom I know to be both. But I do know that the college culture is one where innovation and novelty tend to be prized more than the ability to teach effectively using the same methods used for centuries. No one writes grants to get money to teach professors how to tell good stories using their memories and their voices alone. I think that's a pity. I, as the son and grandson of teachers, delight in knowing that I use little or nothing that those who came before me would not have used. I take inordinate, perhaps excessive, pride in that.

I expect to spend another 25 years teaching, perhaps more. I am always interested in developing new classes and discussing new ideas. But I have yet to see the need to show many videos, or to have a smart classroom, or to put up Power Point whatevers for my students. Don't wire my classroom. Give me a cup of coffee, put chalk in my hand, put me in front of a blackboard, and let me do my damn job.

UPDATE: I'm not going to delete any of this rant (what else is a blog for if not ranting), but I do want to apologize to my readers who might have Ed.D degrees. I am sure there are many lovely, thoughtful, interesting people out there with those letters after their name -- I just have not had the good fortune to yet meet any.

Hugo Schwyzer, Ph.D. teaches history at Pasadena City College.

Copyright © 2005 History News Network