Category: Books

Reading Orwell in Moscow

In this paper, I measure the effect of conflict on the demand for frames of reference, or heuristics that help individuals explain their social and political environment by means of analogy. To do so, I examine how Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 reshaped readership of history and social science books in Russia. Combining roughly 4,000 book abstracts retrieved from the online catalogue of Russia’s largest bookstore chain with data on monthly reading patterns of more than 100,000 users of the most popular Russian-language social reading platform, I find that the invasion prompted an abrupt and substantial increase in readership of books that engage with the experience of life under dictatorship and acquiescence to dictatorial crimes, with a predominant focus on Nazi Germany. I interpret my results as evidence that history books, by offering regime-critical frames of reference, may serve as an outlet for expressing dissent in a repressive authoritarian regime.

That is from a job market paper by Natalia Vasilenok, political science at Stanford.  Via.

What of American culture from the 1940s and 1950s deserves to survive?

In the comments, Elijah asks:

Would love to read a post about which movies and novels from this era do and do not deserve to survive and why.

I do not love 20th century American fiction, so maybe I am the wrong person to ask.  I started with GPT-5, which gave this list of novels from those two decades.  I’ve read a significant percentage of those, and would prefer:

Raymond Chandler, J.D. Salinger, Nabokov, Patricia Highsmith, Shirley Jackson, and lots of science fiction.  The I, Robot stories are from the 1940s, and the book published in 1950.  A lot of the “more serious” entries on that list I feel have diminished somewhat with age.

Great Hollywood movies from that era are too numerous to name.  In music there is plenty of jazz, plus Elvis, Chuck Berry, James Brown, Buddy Holly, doo wop, “the roots of rock” (includes some one hit wonders), Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, the Everlies, the Louvin Brothers, Johnny Cash, lots of country and bluegrass and blues, and many other very well known names from the 1950s.  It is one of the most seminal decades for music ever.  The 1940s are worse, perhaps because of the war, but still there is Rodgers and Hammerstein, lots of big band, and Woody Guthrie.

Contra Ted Gioia, much of that remains well-known to this day, though I would admit Howard Hanson and Walter Piston have fallen by the wayside.  Overall, I think we are processing the American past pretty well.

The Return of the MR Podcast: In Praise of Commercial Culture

The Marginal Revolution Podcast is back with new episodes! We begin with what I think is our best episode to date. We revisit Tyler’s 1998 book In Praise of Commercial Culture. This is the book that put Tyler on the map as a public intellectual. Tyler and I also wrote a paper, An Economic Theory of Avant-Garde and Popular Art, or High and Low Culture, exploring themes from the book. But does In Praise of Commercial Culture stand the test of time? You be the judge!

Here’s one bit:

TABARROK: Here’s a quote from the book, “Art and democratic politics, although both beneficial activities, operate on conflicting principles.”

COWEN: So much of democratic politics is based on consensus. So much of wonderful art, especially new art, is based on overturning consensus, maybe sometimes offending people. All this came to a head in the 1990s, disputes over what the National Endowment for the Arts in America was funding. Some of it, of course, was obscene. Some of it was obscene and pretty good. Some of it was obscene and terrible.

What ended up happening is the whole process got bureaucratized. The NEA ended up afraid to make highly controversial grants. They spend more on overhead. They send more around to the states. Now, it’s much more boring. It seems obvious in retrospect. The NEA did a much better job in the 1960s, right after it was founded, when it was just a bunch of smart people sitting around a table saying, “Let’s send some money to this person,” and then they’d just do it, basically.

TABARROK: Right, so the greatness cannot survive the mediocrity of democratic consensus.

COWEN: There are plenty of good cases where government does good things in the arts, often in the early stages of some process before it’s too politicized. I think some critics overlook that or don’t want to admit it.

TABARROK: One of the interesting things in your book was that the whole history of the NEA, this recreates itself, has recreated itself many times in the past. The salon during the French painting Renaissance, the impressionists hated the salon, right?

COWEN: Right. And had typically turned them away because the works weren’t good enough.

TABARROK: There could be rent-seeking going on, right? The artists get control. Sometimes it’s democratic politics, but sometimes it’s some clique of artists who get control and then funnel the money to their friends.

COWEN: French cinematic subsidies would more fit that latter model. It’s not so much that the French voters want to pay for those movies, but a lot of French government is controlled by elites. The elites like a certain kind of cinema. They view it as a counterweight to Hollywood, preserving French culture. The French still pay for or, indirectly by quota, subsidize a lot of films that just don’t really even get released. They end up somewhere and they just don’t have much impact flat out.

Here’s the episode. Subscribe now to take a small step toward a much better world: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube.

What should I ask Alison Gopnik?

Yes, I will be doing a Conversation with her.  Here is Wikipedia:

Alison Gopnik (born June 16, 1955) is an American professor of psychology and affiliate professor of philosophy at the University of California, Berkeley. She is known for her work in the areas of cognitive and language development, specializing in the effect of language on thought, the development of a theory of mind, and causal learning. Her writing on psychology and cognitive science has appeared in ScienceScientific American, The Times Literary SupplementThe New York Review of BooksThe New York TimesNew ScientistSlate and others. Her body of work also includes four books and over 100 journal articles…

Gopnik has carried out extensive work in applying Bayesian networks to human learning and has published and presented numerous papers on the topic…Gopnik was one of the first psychologists to note that the mathematical models also resemble how children learn.

Gopnik is known for advocating the “theory theory” which postulates that the same mechanisms used by scientists to develop scientific theories are used by children to develop causal models of their environment.

Here is her home page.  So what should I ask her?

The new Derek Parfit volume

He also talked about more personal matters such as his severe problems with insomnia during the recent book-writing process, saying that he was sometimes awake for thirty-six hours at a time and felt that if he had had a gun to hand he might have shot himself — not because he wanted to die, but because he was desperate to lose consciousness.  He had eventually been recommended to try a sleep regime and calming drugs that had solved the problem, and when I commented that I also had problems with sleep, he immediately suggested I should try his methods too.  I discovered later that whenever he came across some technique he regarded as providing a major life improvement, he would proselytize it far and wide.

That is from Janet Radcliffe Richard, the widow of Derek Parfit.  Her fascinating spousal memoir is from the new and fascinating edited collection Derek Parfit: His Life and Thought, edited by Jeff McMahan.  Worth the triple digit price.  Derek would exercise on a stationery bike only, because that was the only form of exercise compatible with reading.  And he was a big fan of Uchida playing Mozart, as all people should be.

And there is this segment, near the close of the essay:

…in the eyes of some people who were aware of it, my philosophical standing was if anything diminished, because in Derek’s circle I was merely his partner, and barely known otherwise.  He did not open up new opportunities for me; on the contrary, I rather dropped out of public view when we lived togehter.  He did not widen my social circle, because he did not have one; in practice (not deliberately), he severely contracted it.  He was of little use for anything recreational, because we did together only what he wanted to do, and soon after I met him most possibilities of that kind were perpetually over the horizon.  He did not in any way advance my career: he was neither my teacher nor my referee, and I had started to establish my terrain — very different from his — before I knew him.  I learned an enormous amount from him, of course; but I did not often find it helpful to discuss my work with him.  Even my eventual return to Oxford had nothing to do with him.

Recommended.  Larry Temkin tells us that Parfit could not calculate a fifteen percent tip, and there is an essay by Derek’s brother as well.  I have never seen a volume where the contributors evince so much fierce loyalty and attachment to their subject.

What I’ve been reading

1. Mark Gilbert, Italy Reborn: From Fascism to Democracy.  How Italy built a democracy after WWII, more or less out of nothing.  An optimistic and good book.  De Gasperi was a great man, and essential to the building out of a democratic Italy, yet today his name is hardly known.

2. Dave Edmonds, Death in a Shallow Pond: A Philosopher, A Drowning Child, and Strangers in Need.  An engaging but also intellectually serious history of some strands of utilitarianism and effective altruism.  I was happy to blurb this book, you may recall Edmonds also wrote the excellent biography of Derek Parfit.

3. Arundhati Roy, Mother Mary Comes to Me.  Well-written, but at some point I started wondering why I should care.  OK, Mama was a pain in the ass, but then what?  You had to take care of her when she was old.  I guess I prefer whaling tales?

4. Chuck Klosterman, Football.  An excellent and highly conceptual book about America’s favorite sport.  Could this be the best book on (American) football ever?

5. Jordana Pomeroy, Daring: The Life and Art of Elisabeth Vigée Le Brun.  Both a book and a picture book rolled into one.  This new release is a very good introduction to her life, her art, and her role as semi-official court painter for Marie de Antoinette.  She remains an underrated artist.

6. Michael Lentz, Schattenfroh.  About one thousand pages, it is receiving buzz as a new novel to master, some are calling it “the new Solenoid” (not a positive for everyone, I do understand).  I have tried parts in English and parts in German, but still I do not get it.  Does it have a plot?  Any humor?  For purposes of norming, I am a big fan of James Joyce’s Ulysses.  I will try it again, however.  At least the author was not complacent.

What should I ask Cass Sunstein?

Yes, I will be doing a Conversation with him soon.  Most of all (but not exclusively) about his three recent books Liberalism: In Defense of Freedom, Manipulation: What It Is, Why It Is Bad, What To Do About It, and Imperfect Oracle: What AI Can and Cannot Do.

So what should I ask him?  Here is my previous CWT with Cass.

Three accounts of modern liberalism

I have a review essay on that topic in the latest TLS.  Excerpt, on Philip Pilkington:

Pilkington’s sense of numbers, history and magnitude is sometimes off. He writes that “liberalism is forming broken, atomized people who are unable to pass on their genes to a future generation”, apparently oblivious to the fact that fertility rates are falling in many non- liberal countries as well – in Russia, for example – where they are lower than in the US. In China, fertility is lower still. Is the liberal goal really to “replac[e] the family with the state”? That sounds more like the non-liberal visions we find in western thought, running from Plato to the more extreme forms of communism in which children are encouraged to report on the supposed crimes of their parents.

We are told that “deindustrialization eviscerated American industry”, yet US manufacturing output is now barely below its pre-financial crisis peak, and service sector jobs tend to pay more on average today than do manufacturing jobs. Pilkington also promotes strange theories of trade imbalances, as presented by the non-economists Oren Cass and Michael Pettis but rejected by virtually all serious researchers in the area. Their view is that a huge economic restructuring is needed because China and Germany keep running trade surpluses while the US is in perpetual trade deficit. But in reality this arrangement seems as stable as any other macroeconomic state of affairs could be. It is Pilkington’s prerogative to disagree with the consensus, but we are never told why everyone else might be wrong. Overall, there is too much sloppiness here in service of the agenda of carping about liberal societies.

And on Robert Kagan:

An alternative and less neat vision of American history shows how liberalism has often relied on illiberalism, and not just accidentally. Lincoln was a significant abuser of civil rights, including on habeas corpus. The North’s campaigns in the Civil War killed many thousands of innocent civilians, not all of them in the service of legitimate military ends. You can argue that this may have been necessary, but liberal it was not. As for FDR, he tried to pack the Supreme Court and sought a significant expansion of executive power, making his administrations a methodological precursor of Trump. He did fight the Second World War on the side of liberalism, but he did not always use liberal means (eg the firebombing of Tokyo), and indeed a full respect for the laws of warfare might not have secured victory.

Once we see American history as a union of liberal and illiberal forces, we can relax a little about the current situation. Certainly, we are returning to some bad and illiberal behaviours of the past, and it is right to be concerned. Yet this seems to be more a feature of the ebb and flow of American politics than a decisive turn away from liberalism. Illiberalism has been prominent in the mix most of the time, and that is both the good news and the bad.

Interesting throughout, recommended, I believe it is the Sept.1 issue.

*Take a Girl Like You*, by Kingsley Amis

This excellent and neglected novel deserves a new look in our time.  As Christian Lorentzen points out in his useful introduction, if you are interested in (non-Submission) Houellebecq, this is the next place to go.  How exactly did we get on the Houellebecq sexual emptiness path to begin with?  This novel was published in 1960, and it shows the first steps toward the sexual revolution and the rise of more open sexual competition, with a nod in the direction of what the final results are going to be.

In the novel the old sexual world is still there, and largely in control.  There is a distinction between “good girls” and “bad girls,” for instance, or if you are traveling with an opposite sex companion there needs to be talk of “separate bedrooms.”  But the characters discuss birth control, and one asks the other why don’t they just…do it?  The novel shows how the older world started to break down and morph into what was to come later.

I will not spoil the ending for you.

Interesting and insigthful passages abound.  For instance:

“He’s got a sensual face.  But he doesn’t know much about women, I think.  He talks all the time, and this isn’t necessary, as we women soon learn.”

Or:

He kissed her very thoroughly, without trying to do anything else, and indeed without any of the toiling and moiling, let alone the moaning and groaning, gone in for by the too-serious ones, and/or the ones who put up a show of being serious.

pp.169-171 have the best analysis of “lookism” I have seen.

Amis understands the slippery slope phenomenon very well.  He even suggests that greater promiscuity is bound to lead to regularly bisexual women.

Recommended, an easy and fun read, and if it helps you norm my evaluation I did not love Lucky Jim by him.

My very interesting Conversation with Seamus Murphy

Here is the audio, video, and transcript.  Here is the episode summary:

Seamus Murphy is an Irish photographer and filmmaker who has spent decades documenting life in some of the world’s most challenging places—from Taliban-controlled Afghanistan to Nigeria’s Boko Haram territories. Having left recession-era Ireland in the 1980s to teach himself photography in American darkrooms, Murphy has become that rare artist who moves seamlessly between conflict zones and recording studios, creating books of Afghan women’s poetry while directing music videos that anticipated Brexit.

Tyler and Seamus discuss the optimistic case for Afghanistan, his biggest fear when visiting any conflict zone, how photography has shaped perceptions of Afghanistan, why Russia reminded him of pre-Celtic Tiger Ireland, how the Catholic Church’s influence collapsed so suddenly in Ireland, why he left Ireland in the 1980s, what shapes Americans impression of Ireland, living part-time in Kolkata and what the future holds for that “slightly dying” but culturally vibrant city, his near-death encounters with Boko Haram in Nigeria, the visual similarities between Michigan and Russia, working with PJ Harvey on Let England Shake and their travels to Kosovo and Afghanistan together, his upcoming film about an Afghan family he’s documented for thirty years, and more.

And an excerpt:

COWEN: Now you’re living in Kolkata mainly?

MURPHY: No. I’m living in London, some of the year in Kolkata.

COWEN: Why Kolkata?

MURPHY: My wife is Indian. She grew up in Delhi, Bombay, and Kolkata, but Kolkata was her favorite. They were the years that were her most fond of years. She’s got lots of friends from Kolkata. I love the city. She was saying that if I didn’t like the city, then we wouldn’t be spending as much time in Kolkata as we do, but I do love the city.

It’s got, in many ways, everything I would look for in a city. Kabul, in a way, was a bit like Kolkata when times were better. This is maybe a replacement for Kabul for me. Kolkata is extraordinary. It’s got that history. It’s got the buildings. Bengalis are fascinating. It’s got culture, fantastic food.

COWEN: The best streets in India, right?

MURPHY: Absolutely.

COWEN: It’s my daughter’s favorite city in India.

MURPHY: Really?

COWEN: Yes.

MURPHY: What does she like about it?

COWEN: There’s a kind of noir feel to it all.

MURPHY: Absolutely.

COWEN: It’s so compelling and so strong and just grabs you, and you feel it on every street, every block. It’s probably still the most intellectual Indian city with the best bookshops, a certain public intellectual life.

MURPHY: It’s widespread. It’s not just elite. It’s everyone. We went to a huge book fair. It’s like going to . . . I don’t know what it’s like going to, Kumbh Mela or something. It’s extraordinary.

There’s a huge tent right in the middle, and it’s for what they call little magazines. Little magazines are these very small publications run by one or two people. They’ll publish poetry. They’ll publish interesting stories. Sadly, I don’t speak Bengali because I’d love to be reading this stuff. There are hundreds of these things. They survive, and people buy them. It’s not just the elite. It’s extraordinary in that way.

COWEN: Is there any significant hardship associated with living there, say a few months of the year?

MURPHY: For us, no. There’s a lot of hardship —

COWEN: No pollution?

MURPHY: Yes. The biggest pollution for me is the noise, the noise pollution.

Interesting throughout.

What should I ask Jonny Steinberg?

Yes I will be doing a Conversation with him.  From Wikipedia:

Steinberg was born and raised in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg, South Africa. He was educated at Wits University in Johannesburg, and at the University of Oxford, where he was a Rhodes Scholar and earned a doctorate in political theory. He taught for nine years at Oxford, where he was Professor of African Studies. He currently teaches at Yale University‘s Council on African Studies.

Three of Steinberg’s books – Midlands (2002), about the murder of a white South African farmer, The Number (2004), a biography of a prison gangster, and Winnie & Nelson (2023) – won South Africa’s premier non-fiction prize, the Sunday Times CNA Literary Awards making him the first writer to win it three times.

I am a special fan of Winnie & Nelson, which I consider to be one of the best books of the last ten years.  He is currently working on a biography of Cecil Rhodes.  So what should I ask him?

Could China Have Gone Christian?

The Taiping Rebellion is arguably the most important event in modern history that even educated Westerners know very little about. It’s also known as the Taiping Civil War and it was one of the largest conflicts in human history (1850–1864), with death toll estimates ranging from 20 to 30 million, far exceeding deaths in the US civil war (~750,000) with which it overlapped.  The civil war destabilized Qing China, weakening it against foreign powers and shaped the trajectory of 19th- and 20th-century Chinese politics. In China the Taiping Civil War is considered the defining event of the 19th-century.

The most surprising aspect of the civil war is that the rebels were Christian. The rebellion has its genesis in 1837 with the dramatic visions of Hong Xiuquan. In his visions, Hong and his elder brother traveled the world slaying demons, guided onwards by an old man who berated Confucius for failing to teach proper doctrines to the Chinese people. (I draw here on Steven Platt’s excellent Autumn in the Heavenly Kingdom). It is perhaps not coincidental that Hong began experiencing his visions after failing the infamously stressful Chinese civil service exams for the third time. It wasn’t until 1843, however, after he failed the exams for the fourth time, that he had an epiphany. A Christian tract that he had never read before suddenly unlocked the meaning of his visions–the elder brother was Jesus Christ, making Hong the second son of the old man, God.

With his visions unlocked, Hong threw himself into learning and then teaching the Gospels. He quickly converted his cousin and a neighbor and they baptized themselves and began taking down icons of Confucianism at their local school. Confucianism, of course, underpinned the exam system that Hong had grown to hate (Recall, that a similar pattern is visible in India today, where mass exams generate large numbers of educated but frustrated youth).

The wild visions of a lowly scholar wouldn’t seem to have the makings of a revolutionary movement but this was the beginning of the century of humiliation when China was forced to confront the idea that far from being the center of civilization it was in fact a backward and weak power on the world stage. Moreover, China was governed by foreigners, the Manchus, who despite ruling for 200 years had never really integrated with the Chinese population. Hence, Hong’s calls to kill the demons merged with a nationalist fervor to massacre the Manchus. Hong proclaimed himself the Heavenly King and his movement quickly grew to more than a million zealous warriors who captured significant territory including establishing the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom with its capital at Nanjing.

The regime banned foot‑binding, prostitution and slavery, promoted the equality of men and women, distributed bibles, and instituted a 7-day week with strict observance of the sabbath. To be sure, this was a Sinicized, millenarian Christianity, more Old Testament than new but the Christianity was serious and real and the rebels appealed to British and Americans as their Christian brothers. One Taiping commander wrote to a British counterpart:

You and I are both sons of the Heavenly Father, God, and are both younger brothers of the Heavenly Elder Brother, Jesus. Our feelings towards each other are like those of brothers, and our friendship is as intimate as that of two brothers of the same parentage. (quoted in Platt p.40)

Now, as it happened, the Heavenly Kingdom fell to the Qing, but it was a close thing and could easily have gone the other way. Western powers—above all Britain, but also the United States—hedged their bets and at times fought both sides, yet for short-sighted reasons ultimately tilted toward the Qing, an intervention Ito Hirobumi later called “the most significant mistake the British ever made in China.” Internal purges fractured the movement, alliances went unmade, and crucial opportunities slipped away. Yet the moment was pregnant with possibility. Hong Rengan, Hong Xiuquan’s cousin and prime minister from 1859, pushed sweeping modernization: railroads, steamships, postal services, banks, and even democratic reforms. These initiatives would likely have brought what one might call Christianity with Chinese Characteristics into closer alignment with Western Christianity.

Indeed, it is entirely plausible that with only a few turns of history, China might now be the world’s most populous Christian nation. And if that seems hard to believe, consider what did happen. Sixty three years after the fall of Nanjing in 1864, China again erupted into civil war under Mao Zedong. This time the rebels triumphed, and instead of a Christian Heavenly Kingdom the world got a Communist People’s Republic. The parallels are striking: both Hong and Mao led vast zealous movements that promised equality, smashed tradition, and enthroned a single man as the embodiment of truth. Both drew on foreign creeds—Hong from Protestant Christianity, Mao from Marxism-Leninism. Both movement had excesses but of the counter-factual and the factual I have little doubt which promised more ruin. The Heavenly Kingdom pointed toward a biblical moral order aligned with the West, the People’s Republic toward a creed that delivered famine, purges, and economic stagnation. Such are the contingencies of history—an ill-timed purge in Nanjing, a foreign gunboat at Shanghai, a missed alliance with the Nian. Small events cascaded into vast consequences. For the want of a nail, the Heavenly Kingdom was lost, and with it perhaps an entirely different modern world.

*How to be a Public Ambassador for Science*

The subtitle is The Scientist as Public Intellectual, and the author is my very good friend Jim Olds, who works at George Mason University.  A very timely topic, here is one excerpt:

I was only about eight weeks into my new job.  I’d been sworn in and found myself very much thrown into the pool’s deep end.  First, the job was much more than serving as the National Science Foundation’s (NSF) lead for President Obama’s Brain Research through Advancing Innovative Neurotechnologies (BRAIN) project.  Second, the learning curve was very steep.  There were meetings full of acronyms that meant nothing to me.  And these were my meetings — with my direct reports.  I had learned the hard way that the Eisenhower Conference Center in the White House complex was made of steel and acted like a Faraday cage: cell phones didn’t work there.  Tuesdays started with breakfast at 7:30 a.m. and went straight through for 12 hours with meeting after meeting.

Recommended, most of all informative about the NSF and also neuroscience.

What I’ve been reading

David Woodman, The First King of England: Aethelstan and the Birth of a Kingdom.  An excellent work.  One of the best books on early English history, and also one of the best books on how the Dark Ages morphed into early Medieval times.  Usually I find treatments in both areas difficult to follow, but this one produces a coherent and also non-exaggerated narrative.  It also will make you want to visit Northumbria.

Edmund Phelps, My Journeys in Economic Theory.  A fascinating memoir, I had not known he was so obsessed with Rawls and Nagel.  He also loved the tenor Franco Corelli, and was a Birgit Nilsson fan too.  Recommended, for those who like this sort of thing, and who already are familiar with the cast of characters.

Bench Ansfield, Born in Flames: The Business of Arson and the Remaking of the American City.  Whenever a book demonstrates what people in New Jersey have known for decades, usually it is a good book.

Andrew Sean Greer, Less: A Novel.  I do not like much in contemporary American fiction, but so far I am quite enjoying this one.

Bernd Roeck, The World at First Light: A New History of the Renaissance.  934 pp. of text, covers too many topics in too desultory a fashion?

Pablo A. Pena, Human Capital for Humans: An Accessible Introduction to the Economic Science of the People, is a good popular-level introduction to human capital theory.

There is Carl Benedikt Frey, How Progress Ends: Technology, Innovation, and the Fate of Nations.