Category: Books
My excellent Conversation with Chris Dixon
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Chris Dixon believes we’re at a pivotal inflection point in the internet’s evolution. As a general partner at Andreessen Horowitz and author of Read Write Own, Chris believes the current internet, dominated by large platforms like YouTube and Spotify, has strayed far from its decentralized roots. He argues that the next era—powered by blockchain technology—can restore autonomy to creators, lower barriers for innovation, and shift economic power back to the network’s edges.
Tyler and Chris discuss the economics of platform dominance, how blockchains merge protocol-based social benefits with corporate-style competitive advantages, the rise of stablecoins as a viable blockchain-based application, whether Bitcoin or AI-created currencies will dominate machine-to-machine payments, why Stack Overflow could be the first of many casualties in an AI-driven web, venture capital’s vulnerability to AI disruption, whether open-source AI could preserve national sovereignty, NFTs as digital property rights system for AIs, how Kant’s synthetic a priori, Kripke’s modal logic, and Heidegger’s Dasein sneak into Dixon’s term‑sheet thinking, and much more.
Most of the talk was about tech of course, but let’s cut right to the philosophy section:
COWEN: What’s your favorite book in philosophy?
DIXON: I’ve actually been getting back into philosophy lately. I did philosophy years ago in grad school. Favorite book, man. Are you into philosophy?
COWEN: Of course, yes. Plato’s Dialogues; Quine, Word and Object; Parfit, Reasons and Persons; Nozick. Those are what come to my mind right away.
DIXON: Yes. I did analytic philosophy. I actually was in a graduate school program and dropped out. I did analytic philosophy. Actually, Quine was one of my favorites — Word and Object and Two Dogmas of Empiricism, all those kinds of things. I like Donald Davidson. Nozick — I loved Anarchy, State, and Utopia. Reading that with Rawls is a great pairing. I used to love Wittgenstein, both early and later. I was into logic, so Frege and Russell. This was a grad school.
Now I’m trying to finally understand continental philosophy. I never understood it. I’ve actually spent the last three months in a philosophy phase. I’ve been watching a lot of videos. Highly recommend this. Do you know Bryan Magee?
COWEN: Sure, yes.
DIXON: Amazing. I watched all of his videos. This guy, Michael Sugrue, was a Princeton professor — great videos on continental philosophy. I’ve been reading — it sounds pretentious; I’m not saying I understand this or I’m an expert on it, but I’m struggling in reading it. I’m trying to read Being and Time right now — Heidegger. I really like Kripke. I follow Kripke. I liked his books a lot. Nelson Goodman was one of my favorites. Funny enough, I just bought it again — Fact, Fiction, and Forecast. Kripke — Naming and Necessity is his legendary book on reference and language.
COWEN: I’ve never been persuaded by that one. It always felt like sleight of hand to me. He’s very, very smart. He might be the sharpest philosopher, but I like the book on Wittgenstein better.
DIXON: He basically invented modal logic. I don’t know if you know that story. He was in high school, something.
COWEN: He was 15 years old, I heard. Yes.
DIXON: [laughs] He’s like a true prodigy. Like a lot of philosophy, you have to take it in the context, like Naming and Necessity I think of as a response — gosh, I’m forgetting the whole history of it, but as I recall, it was a response to the descriptive theory of reference, like Russell. Anyways, I think you have to take these things in a pairing.
Actually, last night I was with a group of people. I got a lecture on philosophy, and it was great because he went through Hume, Kant, Hegel, Nietzsche. I don’t want to go too much into that, but I’ve always struggled with Kant. Then he went into Hegel and explained that Hegel struggled with Kant in the same way that I did, and then improved on it. I’m not trying to go into details of this; it’s too much. The point is, for me, a lot of it has to be taken in as a dialogue between thinkers over multiple periods.
COWEN: Are you getting anything out of Heidegger? Because I sometimes say I’ve looked at every page of that book, but I’m not sure I’ve read it.
DIXON: It’s a good question. I have a friend who’s really into it, and we’ve been spending time together, and he’s trying to teach me. If you want, I’ll send you some videos that I think are really good.
COWEN: That’d be great.
DIXON: They’ve helped me a lot. I’ve always got it from an intellectual history point of view. If you want to follow the history of postmodernism, there’s Heidegger and then Derrida, and just what’s going on in the academy today with relativism and discourse and hermeneutics. I think it’s modern political implications that were really probably kicked off by Nietzsche and then Heidegger. I’ve always understood in that sense.
What I struggle with, and I understand him as a theory of psychology, I think of describing the experience of the Dasein and being-in-the-world. To me, it’s an interesting theory of psychology. You’re thrown into the world. This whole idea is very appealing to me. Just that whole story he tells — you’re thrown into the world, ready at hand versus present at hand. I think this idea of knowing how versus knowing that, different kinds of knowledge is a very interesting idea. Do you watch John Vervaeke?
COWEN: No.
You will find the (very interesting) tech segments all over the rest of the dialogue. And I am happy to refer you all to the new paperback edition of Chris’s new book Read Write Own: Building the Next Era of the Internet.
Smith Reviews Stiglitz
Vernon Smith reviews Joe Stiglitz’s book The Road to Freedom:
Stiglitz did work in the abstract intellectual theoretical tradition of neoclassical economics showing how the standard results were changed by asymmetric or imperfect information. He is oblivious, however, to the experimental lab and field empirical research showing that agent knowledge of all such information is neither necessary nor sufficient for a market to converge to competitive supply-and-demand equilibrium outcomes.
Consequently, both the standard and the modified theories are irrelevant because buyers and sellers in possession only of dispersed, private, decentralized, value information easily converge to competitive price-quantity allocations in experimental markets over time via learning in repeat transactions.
…The first experiments, showing that complete WTP/WTA information was not necessary, were reported in Smith (1962), and none of us could any longer accept the standard and Stiglitz-modified theories. Further experiments, showing that such information was not sufficient, and that equilibrium prices need not require that markets clear, were reported in Smith (1965). (For propositions summarizing and evaluating observed empirical regularities in these experimental markets, see Vernon L. Smith, Arlington Williams, W. K. Bratt, and M. G. Vannoni, 1982, “Competitive Market Institutions: Double Auctions vs. Sealed Bid-Offer Auctions,” American Economic Review 72, no. 1, 58–77; and Vernon L. Smith, 1991, Papers in Experimental Economics, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.) It was natural, in the first market experiments, to investigate those questions, such as the information state of traders, that were central to the abstract economic theory of the time.
So, the Akerlof-Stiglitz modifications of theory were founded on a false conditional and thus were not germane to practical market performance. They were born falsified.
…The needed policy implications are quite clear, and they have nothing to do with Stiglitz’s market failure and everything to do with how markets function. Indeed, the appropriate policy recommendation is to fully support the market-system maximization of prosperity, as did Friedman and Hayek, then use incentive mechanisms to improve the relative positions of those who are disadvantaged in that system. Never kill the goose that lays eggs of gold.
My history with philosophy
At the same time I started reading economics, at age 13, I also was reading philosophy. I lived in Hillsdale, New Jersey, but River Vale had a better public library for those topics, so I would ride my bike there periodically and take out books (I also learned about Thelonious Monk and Miles Davis by bringing home scratched LPs).
Most of all, I was drawn to the Great Books series, most of all the philosophy in there. I figured I should read all of them. So of course I started with the Dialogues of Plato, which occupied my attention for a long time to come. Aristotle was boring to me, though at the time (and still) I felt he was more correct than Plato.
I also, from the beginning, never bought the argument that Socrates was the mouthpiece of Plato. In my early view (and still), Plato was the real genius, and he upgraded the second-rate Socrates to a smarter figure, mostly to make the dialogues better. The dialogic nature of Plato shows is true genius, because any single point of view you might find in there is quite untenable.
My favorite dialogues were the classic ones, such as Crito, Apology, Phaedo, and Symposium. Parmenides was a special obsession, though reader beware. It seemed fundamental and super-important. Timaeus intrigued me, as did Phaedrus, but I found them difficult. I appreciated The Republic only much later, most of all after reading the Allan Bloom introduction to the Chicago edition. My least favorite was Laws.
The other major event was buying a philosophy textbook by John Hospers (yes, if you are wondering that is the same John Hospers who wrote all that gay porn under a pseudonym). I think I bought this one in NYC rather than taking it out of the library. It explained the basic history of “early modern philosophy” running through Descartes, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, and Kant, and that fascinated me. So I decided I should be reading all those people and I did. Berkeley and Hume were the most fun. I already could see, from my concomitant economics reading, that Kant could not think at the margin.
Other early philosophy readings, in high school, were Popper, Nietzsche, and Doseoyevsky, at the time considering Karamazov a kind of philosophy book. Some Sartre, and whatever else I could find in the library. Lots of libertarian philosophy, such as Lysander Spooner’s critique of social contract theories of the state. I also read a number of books on atheism, such as by Antony Flew and George Smith, and a good deal of C.S. Lewis, such as God in the Dock. Arthur Koestler on the ghost in the machine. William James on free will. Various 1960s and 1970s screeds, many of which were on the margins of philosophy. Robert Pirsig bored me, not rigorous enough, etc., but I imbibed many such “works of the time.” They nonetheless helped to define the topic for me, as did my readings in science fiction. If I was reading Popper’s Poverty of Historicism, and Theory and History by Mises, I also was thinking of Isaac Asimov’s Foundation trilogy.
For a brief while I considered becoming a philosopher, though I decided that the economist path was better and far more practical, and also more useful to the world.
I kept on reading philosophy through my undergraduate years. The biggest earthquake was reading Quine. All of a sudden I was seeing a very different approach to what social science propositions and economic models were supposed to mean. (I never had been satisfied with Friedman, Samuelson, or the Austrians on ecoomic methodology.) For a long time I thought I would write a 100-page essay “Hayek and Quine,” but I never did. Nonetheless some radical new doors were opened for me, most of all a certain kind of freedom in intellectual interpretation. I also was influenced a good deal by reading Olaf Stapledon’s Last and First Men/Starmaker novels, feeding into my speculative bent.
I didn’t do much with philosophy classes, though in graduate school at Harvard I sat in on Hilary Putnam’s philosophy of language class (with my friend Kroszner). That was one of the very best classes I ever had, maybe the best. At Harvard I also got to know Nozick a bit, and of course he was extraordinarily impressive. At that time I also studied Goethe and German romanticism closely, and never felt major allergies toward the Continental approaches.
One day at Harvard, in 1984, I walked into Harvard Book Store and saw a copy of Parfit’s Reasons and Persons, which had just come out. I hadn’t known of Parfit before, but immediately decided I had to buy and read the book. I was hooked, and spent years working on those problems, including for part of my dissertation, which was hardly advisable from a job market point of view. Like Quine, that too changed my life and worldview. “Quine and Parfit” would be an interesting essay too.
When I took my first job at UC Irvine, I hung out with some of the philosophers there, including the excellent Alan Nelson and also Gregory Kavka, with whom I co-authored a bit. Greg and I became very good friends, and his early death was a great tragedy. I also enjoyed my periodic chats with David Gordon, a non-academic philosopher who lives in Los Angeles and the best-read philosopher I have met.
In the late 1980s I met Derek Parfit, and ended up becoming Derek’s only co-author, on the social discount rate. The full story there is told in Dave Edmonds’s excellent biography of Parfit, so I won’t repeat it here. These posts are for secrets! I will add that Derek struck me as the most philosophical person I ever have met, the most truly committed to philosophy as a method and a way of life. That to me is still more important than any particular thing he wrote. Your writings and your person are closely related, but they also are two separate things. Not enough philosophers today give sufficient thought to who they are.
After the collaboration with Parfit, he wrote me a letter and basically offered to bring me into his group at Oxford (under what terms was not clear). That felt like a dead end to me, plus a big cut in lifetime income, and so I did not pursue the opportunity.
I ended up with four articles in the philosophical equivalent of the “top five” journals in economics. I also was pleased and honored when Peter Singer invited me to present my paper “Policing Nature” to his philosophy group at Princeton. I think of my books The Age of the Infovore and Stubborn Attachments as more philosophy than anything else, though synthetic of course.
I have continued to read philosophy over the years. Next on my list is the new translation of Maimonides, which on first glance seems like a big improvement. However I read much less philosophy in refereed journals than I used to. Frankly, I think most of it is not very philosophical and also not very interesting. It is not about real problems, but rather tries to carve out a small piece that is both marginally noticeable by an academic referee and also defensible, again to an academic referee. That strikes me as a bad way to do philosophy. It worked pretty well say in the 1960s, but these days those margins are just too small.
Most professional philosphers seem to me more like bureaucrats than philosophers. They simply do not embody philosophic ideals, either in their writings or in their persons. Most of all I am inclined to reread philosophic classics, read something “Continental,” or read philosophic works that to most people would not count as philosophy at all. An excellent tweet on AI can be extraordinarily philosophical in the best sense of the term, and like most of the greatest philosophy from the past it is not restricted by the canons of refereed journals. Maxims have a long and noble history in philosophy.
My notion of who is a philosopher has broadened extensively over the years. I think of Patrick Collison, Camille Paglia, and the best Ross Douthat columns (among many other examples, let’s toss in the best Matt Y. sentences as well, and the best Peter Thiel observations), not to mention some art and architecture and music critics, as some of the best and most important philosophy of our time. The best philosophy of Agnes Callard (NYT) does not look like formal philosophy at all. I know it is hard for many of you to make this mental shift, but revisit how Kierkegaaard and Schopenhauer wrote and you might find it possible. And of course the very greatest philosophers of our time are the people who are building and learning how to use the quality LLMs.
A simple rule of thumb is that if no one is writing you, and telling you that you changed their lives, you probably are not a philosopher. You cannot expect such feedback in mathematical logic, or early in your career, but still it is not a bad place to start for judging this issue.
Looking back, I now see myself as having chosen the path of philosophy more than economics. I view myself as a philosopher who knows a lot of economics and who writes about economics (among other things). I am comfortable with that redefinition of self, and it makes my career and my time allocation easier to understand.
And now to go try that new Maimonides edition…
Music compensation fact of the day
The Kanye West and Jay-Z song “No Church in the Wild,” for instance, sampled a single instrumental line from a failed solo album recorded in the late 1970s by the Roxy Music guitarist Phil Manzanera; the licensing proceeds provided Mr. Manzanera with “the biggest payday he had in the course of his entire career.” Or there is Mr. Hepworth’s revelation that some crazed fan supposedly paid more than $160,000 for a seat at Led Zeppelin’s 2007 reunion.
Here is more from the WSJ review of David Hepworth’s Hope I Get Old Before I Die, reviewed by D.J. Taylor.
What I’ve been reading
1. Florian Illies, The Magic of Silence: Caspar David Friedrich’s Journey Through Time. An excellent book, usually I am allergic to art history books that attempt to charm, but this one works. Excerpt: “A question posed to the philosopher Peter Sloterdijk: ‘What makes the Monk by the Seashore so unprecedented?’ His answer: “It is the first picture of the dissolution of the subject in the substance.”” I had not known Friedrich also was an expert canary breeder.
2. Elsa Morante, Lies and Sorcery. The kind of long novel that women on average will like much more than men do? If someone said to me they thought it was excellent, I would not feel they had bad taste. For me the narrative strayed too far from anything I cared about, other than fineries about the characters.
3. John Ferling, Shots Heard Round the World: America, Britain, and Europe in the Revolutionary War. A good and well-detailed book for putting the Revolutionary War and its battles into a broader perspective, explicable to both American and British perspectives.
4. Nick Land, The Dark Enlightenment. There is plenty one can say about this book and these views, but most of all I am struck how negative “the new Right” is about American institutions. Even at whatever you might think is their most decrepit state (which year is that again?), they are some of the best institutions the world has seen. Call that a low standard if you wish, but it is not an irrelevant standard. Here are some other examples of people becoming far, far too pessimistic about the American status quo ex ante. As personality types, they are simply way too much a bunch of sourpusses. Things just have not been that bad!
5. John Cassidy, Capitalism and its Critics: A History: From the Industrial Revolution to AI. John Cassidy of course is the New Yorker writer on economics. Comprehensive and clearly written, I predict this book will find its audience, and no it does not discuss Nick Land.
*The German Empire, 1871-1918*
By Roger Chickering, this is so far the best book I have read this year, and I knew that within the first fifty pages (or less). It is everything one could want from a book on this very important country and time period. Likely I will report more on it as I read more, for the moment here is one excerpt:
Together, the new smelting techniques had driven the price of crude steel in Europe down nearly 90 percent by the end of the nineteenth century. In Germany, the results of this trend registered in a thirty-fold increase in the annual production of steel between 1879 and 1913. Thanks in great part to the iron fields of Lorraine, German output overtook British annual production in 1893; by 1913, German mills produced more steel than their British, French, and Russian counterparts combined. Much of this steel was poured into the German railways. Rail networks were extended; primarily at the insistence of the army, trunk lines were enlarged to two, in some cases four tracks. Iron rails were replaced with more durable steel. Wheels, axles, couplings, and wagons were modernized into steel, as were bridges. These substitutions not only made railroads faster but also increased their capacity. Meanwhile, palaces of rail travel emerged out of metal and glass as the great train stations of Leipzig, Frankfurt am Main, Hamburg, and Germany’s other main cities. Late in the century travel along the steel rails also expanded in the form of tramways onto the streets of the cities themselves.
It is wonderful on the politics of the time as well, for instance tracing out the rise of Bismarck, or how the rivalries between Prussia and Austria shaped so many issues at the time. You can buy the book here.
My Conversation with the excellent Ian Leslie
I loved his new book on John and Paul, of the Beatles, and I am delighted to see it doing so well on the UK bestseller lists, and now also on the US lists. Here is my audio, video, and transcript with him. Here is the episode summary:
In this deep dive into one of music’s most legendary partnerships, Ian Leslie and Tyler unpack the complex relationship between John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Leslie, whose book John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs examines this creative pairing, reveals how their contrasting personalities—John’s intuitive, sometimes chaotic approach and Paul’s methodical perfectionism—created a unique creative alchemy that neither could fully replicate after the Beatles split.
They explore John’s immediate songwriting brilliance versus Paul’s gradual development, debate when the Beatles truly became the Beatles, dissect their best and worst covers, examine the nuances of their collaborative composition process, consider their many musical influences, challenge the sentiment in “Yesterday,” evaluate unreleased tracks and post-Beatles reunions, contemplate what went wrong between John and Paul in 1969, assess their solo careers and collaborations with others, compare underrated McCartney and Lennon albums, and ultimately extract broader lessons about creative partnerships.
Here is one excerpt:
COWEN: Do you think Paul’s song, “Yesterday,” is excessively sentimental?
LESLIE: No, I don’t. First of all, it’s not really sentimental in any way. I think it acquired this reputation because it does seem to come from a different tradition, perhaps a more easy-listening tradition in the first instance, although, I can hear echoes of music going far back from that in history.
But as a song about this person, this woman has left me and I have no idea why, it doesn’t then go on to describe how wonderful this girl is. Just says she’s gone and I don’t know why. It’s bleak. [laughs] The way he sings it is clipped, it’s brusque, it’s northern. It’s almost this northern folk sound to the way he sings it.
The string arrangement — he made sure that it wasn’t sentimental. He said to George Martin explicitly, “We’ve got to find a way of not making this sound saccharine.” So, George Martin asked the players not to play with vibrato or to play with very little vibrato. I think it’s very unsentimental, and in a way, it’s not that far off from “For No One,” which is an anti-sentimental song, where there’s very little hope.
COWEN: Or “Another Girl” even, right? The girls were leaving all the time in that song. It’s quite brutally about something very particular.
LESLIE: It’s interesting because I think in that year, 1965, with “Another Girl” and “I’m Looking Through You,” he is really soaking up, I think, from John. Or “The Night Before.” He’s leading into his Johness in the sense of he’s finding some anger and some hostility.
COWEN: “You Won’t See Me,” most of all.
The only topic was the Beatles, plus a bit on artistic collaboration more generally. In any case this was one of the most fun episodes for me. Definitely recommended, and again I am a big fan of Ian’s book John & Paul: A Love Story in Songs.
Subterranean sentences to ponder
But the fact that it’s commonplace is precisely why Earth’s subsurface biosphere is so compelling. Mud is everywhere, which means it is important. If you add up the total amount of mud underneath all the worlds’s oceans, you come up with a volume equivalent to about the entire Atlantic Ocean. And, per cubic meter, there are 100 to 100,000 times more microbial cells in mud than there are in seawater. That means that there’s so much intraterrestrial life in the subsurface that it’s hard to even fathom it. The total amount of microbial cells in the marine sediment subsurface is estimated to be 2.9 x 10 [to the 29th] cells. This is about 10,000 times more than the estimated number of stars in the universe. But that’s not the whole subsurface. You’d have to at least double this number to include the microbial cells living deep underneath the land. And some of these cells may have found pockets where the food is more abundant than the average location, so more cells can live there than our models predict. For these reasons, the actual number of microbial cells in the subsurface biosphere is certain to be much higher than our current estimates.
That is from the new and interesting IntraTerrestrtials: Discovering the Strangest Life on Earth, by Karen G Lloyd.
Book ban sentences to ponder
Using a staggered difference-in-differences design, we find that the circulations of banned books increased by 12%, on average, compared with comparable nonbanned titles after the ban. We also find that banning a book in a state leads to increased circulation in states without bans. We show that the increase in consumption is driven by books from lesser-known authors, suggesting that new and unknown authors stand to gain from the increasing consumer support. Additionally, our results demonstrate that books with higher visibility on social media following the ban see an increase in consumption, suggesting a pivotal role played by social media. Using patron-level data from the Seattle Public Library that include the borrower’s age, we provide suggestive evidence that the increase in readership in the aggregate data is driven, in part, by children reading a book more once it is banned. Using data on campaign emails sent to potential donors subscribed to politicians’ mailing lists, we show a significant increase in mentions of book ban-related topics in fundraising emails sent by Republican candidates.
That is from a new paper by Uttara M. Ananthakrishnan, et.al., via Kris Gulati.
The roots of gun violence
An estimated 80 percent [of U.S: gun shootings] seem to instead be crimes of passion — including rage. They’re arguments that could be defused but aren’t, then end in tragedy because someone has a gun. Most violent crimes are the result of human behavior gone temporarily haywire, not premeditated acts for financial benefit.
That is from the new and interesting Unforgiving Places: The Unexpected Origins of American Gun Violence, by Jens Ludwig.
Muere Mario Vargas Llosa, RIP
Here is one article in Spanish, my favorite novel by him is War of the End of the World. Aunt Julia and the Scripwriter is a wonderful introduction, and there are many other fine works.
I never knew Joseph Smith ran for President
Eventually, Smith declared himself a candidate for the White House. His proposed platform was an awkward conglomeration of popular, though incongruent, principles including restoring the national bank, cutting Congress members’ salaries, annexing Texas, and instituting the gradual abolition of slavery. Hundreds of Mormon men, including Brigham Young, swarmed the nation campaigning for their prophet to become president.
That is from the new and excellent Benjamin E. Park, American Zion: A New History of Mormonism. An excellent book, good enough to make the year’s best non-fiction list.
I also learned recently (from Utah, not from this book) that early Mormons would drink alcohol and “Brigham Young even operated a commercial distillery east of Salt Lake City, and his southern‐Utah “Dixie Wine Mission” (1860s‑80s) was organized to supply sacramental, medicinal, and commercial wine for the territory.” By the time Prohibition rolled around, however, Mormons were close to completely “dry.”
My Conversation with the excellent Jennifer Pahlka
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Jennifer Pahlka believes America’s bureaucratic dysfunction is deeply rooted in outdated processes and misaligned incentives. As the founder of Code for America and co-founder of the United States Digital Service, she has witnessed firsthand how government struggles to adapt to the digital age, often trapped in rigid procedures and disconnected from the real-world impact of its policies. Disruption is clearly needed, she says—but can it be done in a way that avoids the chaos of DOGE?
Tyler and Jennifer discuss all this and more, including why Congress has become increasingly passive, how she’d go about reforming government programs, whether there should be less accountability in government, how AGI will change things, whether the US should have public-sector unions, what Singapore’s effectiveness reveals about the trade-offs of technocratic governance, how AI might fundamentally transform national sovereignty, what her experience in the gaming industry taught her about reimagining systems, which American states are the best-governed, the best fictional depictions of bureaucracy, how she’d improve New York City’s governance, her current work at the Niskanen Center, and more.
Excerpt:
COWEN: Does that mean we need something like DOGE? I’ve lived near DC for about 40 years of my life. I haven’t seen anyone succeed with regulatory reforms. You can abolish an agency, but to really reform the process hasn’t worked. Maybe the best iteration we can get is to break a bunch of things now. That will be painful, people will hate it, but you have a chance in the next administration to put some of them back together again.
Maybe it’s just in a large country, there’s no other way to do it. We have separation of powers. The first two years of DOGE will seem terrible, but 8, 12, 16 years from now, we’ll be glad we did it. Is that possible?
PAHLKA: I don’t know what’s going to happen. I do think this is the disruption that we’re getting, whether it’s the disruption we wanted. The question of whether it could have been done in a more orderly manner is a tough one. I just feel sad that we didn’t try.
COWEN: Are you sure we didn’t try?
PAHLKA: I don’t think we really tried.
COWEN: The second Bush presidency, people talked about this, what we need to do. Al Gore — some of that was good, in fact, reinventing government. We’ve been trying all along, but this is what trying looks like.
PAHLKA: Yes. I think reinventing government happened at a time when we were just at the beginning of this digital revolution. It was trying with a very 20th-century mindset. Fine, did well within that context, but we don’t need that again.
We need 21st century change. We need true digital transformation. We need something that’s not stuck in the industrial ways of thinking. I don’t think we tried that. I think the efforts have just been too respectful of old ways of working and the institutions. There was really not an appetite, I think, for what I would call responsible disruptive change. Would it have worked?
COWEN: Is there such a thing?
PAHLKA: I don’t know. [laughs]
COWEN: Say you’re approaching USAID, where I think the best programs are great. A lot of it they shouldn’t be doing. On net, it passes a cost-benefit test, but the agency internally never seemed willing to actually get rid of the bad stuff, all the contracting arrangements which made American Congress people happy because it was dollars sent to America, but way inflated overhead and fixed costs. Why isn’t it better just to blow that up — some of it is great — and then rebuild the great parts?
PAHLKA: It’s so hard to say. [laughs] I’ve had the same thought. In fact, before inauguration, I wrote about the Department of Defense. It’s the same thing. There’s a clear recognition by the people in the institution, as you saw with USAID, that this is not okay, that this is not working. It’s just strange to be in an institution that large where so many people agree that it’s not working, from the bottom to the top, and yet nobody can make really substantive change.
Of great interest, obviously.
One economist removed from the Naval library
Deirdre McCloskey, can you guess which book? See #197. I might add the text to that one is remarkably non-salacious, perhaps many readers were somewhat disappointed.
Via the excellent CW.
My Conversation with the excellent Sheilagh Ogilvie
Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is part of the episode summary:
Tyler and Sheilagh discuss the economic impacts of historical pandemics, the “happy story” of the Black Death and why it doesn’t stand up to scrutiny, the history of variolation and how entrepreneurs created vaccination franchises in 18th-century England, why local communities typically managed epidemics better than central authorities, the dastardly nature of medieval guilds, the European marriage pattern and its disputed contribution to economic growth, when sustained economic growth truly began in England, why the Dutch Republic stagnated despite its early success, whether she agrees with Greg Clark’s social mobility hypothesis, her experience and conducting “anthropological fieldwork” on English social customs, the communitarian norms she encountered while living in Germany, her upcoming research project on European serfdom, and more.
Here is one excerpt:
OGILVIE: …If you were a teenager in an English village in the 18th century and you were deciding, “I’m going to move to London and get a job,” you and your friendship group from the village would all go into the nearest town and pay a commercial variolator. You’d all get smallpox together. You’d go back to your village. You’d suffer through this mild case of smallpox, and then you would be immunized for life, assuming that you hadn’t died. You would go off to London and seek your fortune. It was very much a normal teenage thing to do.
There was this incredible franchising set up in England. It was like a McDonald’s, but to get variolated. There were these entrepreneurs who advertised themselves as having lower-risk ways of getting immunized and cheaper ways of getting immunized. There was this famous family of the Suttons that started a franchise in 18th-century England in the 1750s. Then they spread into the continent of Europe and actually into North America.
COWEN: You would have done it back then?
OGILVIE: Oh, definitely.
COWEN: With enthusiasm.
And this:
COWEN: You’ve now lived in England for well over 30 years. What’s been your biggest surprise about the place, if anything has stuck?
OGILVIE: It keeps on surprising me. I’ve actually lived here for more than 46 years. I moved here as an undergraduate. I came here when I was 16, and I feel as if I’m still doing anthropological fieldwork on the behavioral patterns of these strange local tribes. There are these systematic things — they’re charming, but they’re very strange.
For instance, just to give one example, English people are very reserved. I get on with that because Canadians are fairly reserved as well. It’s okay to talk to people in your neighborhood if they have a dog with them. That’s a conversation mediator. Or if you are gardening in your front garden, but if you’re in your back garden, you’re not supposed to talk to people. It’s taken me a few decades to observe this as an empirical regularity.
Nobody ever tells you that this is how you’re supposed to behave, but if you keep your field notebooks going as an anthropologist, you begin to notice the tribal patterns of the English. I must like them, since here I still am after more than four decades.
Recommended.