Breit, William; Barry T. Hirsch;
Lives of the Laureates, Fifth Edition: Twenty-three Nobel Economists
MIT Press, 2009, 456 pages
ISBN 0262012766, 9780262012768
topics: | economics | biography |
autobiographical accounts of the careers of twenty-three leading economists.
As most of you may know, the economics award is relatively recent. It was established by the Central Bank of Sweden in 1968 to commemorate its three-hundredth anniversary. So far, twenty-two people have received the Nobel award in economics. Not one of them has been female—so, to judge only from the past, the most important thing to do if you want to be a Nobel laureate is to be male.
I hasten to add that the absence of females is not, I believe, attributable to male chauvinist bias on the part of the Swedish Nobel Committee. I believe that the economics profession as a whole would have been nearly unanimous that, during the period in question, only one female candidate met the relevant standards— the English economist Joan Robinson, who has since died. The failure of the Nobel Committee to award her a prize may well have reflected bias but not sex bias. The economists here will understand what I am talking about.
A second requirement is to be a U.S. citizen. Twelve of the twenty-two recipients of the Nobel Prize were from the United States, four from the United Kingdom, two from Sweden, and one each from four other countries. This generalization is less clear-cut than the first because the population of the United States is more than three times as large as Britain, but the number of Nobel recipients only three times as large. So on a percapita basis, Britain has a better record than we have.
A third generalization is, at least to me, the most interesting statistical result. Of the twelve Americans who have won the Nobel Prize in economics, nine either studied or taught at the University of Chicago. So the next lesson is to go to the University of Chicago. And I may say, in addition to those nine, one other, Friedrich Hayek, also taught at the University of Chicago for ten years. However, I have classified him as an Austrian rather than an American in my compilation. Beyond that, the statistics won’t go, and that’s all the advice I can give to potential Nobel laureates.
W. Arthur Lewis: I had never meant to be an economist. My father had wanted me to be a lawyer... Lawrence R. Klein: I entered economics because, as a youth of the depression, I wanted intensely to have some understanding of what was going on around me. It was psychologically difficult to grow up during the depression. It was easy to become discouraged about economic life and did not give one, at eighteen or twenty years, the feeling that there were boundless opportunities just waiting for exploitation. Kenneth J. Arrow: One might suppose, for example, that the personal histories and class backgrounds of economists would be important factors. Yet that does not seem to be the case. Among the great economists of the nineteenth century, David Ricardo was a highly successful businessman, a stock-exchange speculator to be exact, while John Stuart Mill was brought up to be an intellectual by an exacting father. Yet their economic theories were very similar indeed. When it came to college, my family’s poverty constrained me to attend the City College, which was then a completely free college opportunity that New York City had offered since 1847. When I took Harold Hotelling's course in mathematical economics, I realized I had found my niche. Paul A. Samuelson: A bright youngster, favored by admiring parents, [Paul] shone at school until the high-school years when he became an underachiever. The calendar lies in naming May 15, 1915, as his time of birth. Truly he was born on the morning of January 2, 1932, at the University of Chicago. He was made for academic life. An A student at Chicago and an A+ one at Harvard, PAS wandered by chance into economics. Economics turned out to be made for him as the Darwinian genes from generations of commercial ancestors encountered their teleological destiny.
I have been enormously impressed by the role that pure chance plays in determining our life history. As I recalled my own experience and development, I was impressed by the series of lucky accidents that determined the road I traveled. The first, and surely the most important, was the lucky accident that I was born in the United States. Both my parents were born in Carpatho-Ruthenia, which when they emigrated to the United States was part of Austro-Hungary, later, part of Czechoslovakia, currently, part of the Soviet Union. The second major lucky accident was a high-school teacher I had as a sophomore. His field was political science—or civics, as it was called then—but he had a great love for geometry. The course I took from him in Euclidean geometry instilled in me a love and respect for and interest in mathematics that has remained with me ever since. Because of my interest in math, I planned to major in mathematics. I was very innocent and the only occupation I knew of that used mathematics was being an insurance actuary, so that was my intended career. By accident, I also took some courses in economics, and that is where the Goddess of Chance entered the picture, because the Rutgers economics faculty included two extraordinary teachers who had a major impact on my life. One was Arthur F. Burns, who many years later became chairman of the Federal Reserve System and is currently our ambassador to West Germany. When I first studied under him, more than fifty years ago, Arthur was in the process of writing his doctoral dissertation. Then, and in my later contacts with him, he instilled a passion for scientific integrity and for accuracy and care that has had a major effect on my scientific work. I was lucky enough to receive two offers of tuition scholarships, one in applied mathematics from Brown University and one in economics from the University of Chicago. It was close to a toss of a coin that determined which offer I accepted. If I had gone to Brown, I would have become an applied mathematician. 69
I arrived at Harvard College in September 1940. Economics A was one of my four freshman courses. I had no idea then of becoming an economist; I probably didn’t know there was such a thing as a professional economist, or what one did. My recollection is that I had some notion of studying biology. Three years later I came back and, almost without thinking about it, signed up to finish my undergraduate degree as an economics major. 156