Cheap post/re-post

But it's worth it. Gabriel links to the Walresiad and it's a fun read.

Here's some choice bits:

Yet, dear reader, around the Alpine mountains where no rotten English dogs bark and the air is pristine and filled with utility, where water is more scarce than diamonds, where time is so subjective it seems to fly by in an instant, an Epicurean group had gathered around the aged Menger to chant the magical words of yet another Dutch Jew of Portuguese descent: "The primary and sole foundation of virtue or of the proper conduct of life is to seek our own profit". These words of Baruch Spinoza, from many suitably discounted centuries before, entranced the young Tyroleans. Little Eugen, Friedrich, Ludwig, Josef, Fritz, the young mad baron von Hayek and other irreducibly uncertain boys locked themselves in the ministries and seminar rooms of the Austrian capital and dreamed of following the style of the eternal Spinoza and so build an axiomatic-deductive edifice to explain the ways of markets to men.

and

Long after Wicksell had gone before the Lords of Valhalla to argue his innovative ideas about money circulation, capital-structure and..um..turning convents into profit-maximizing ventures, his visionary legacy proceeded in the hands of his remarkably able students - Myrdal, Lindahl, Ohlin, Lundberg and more. Sadly, these youngsters were nonetheless ignored by most rotten English dogs and indeed, the whole country suddenly disappeared from the economist's atlas - until, years later, some of these students and their friends in high places decided to create a memorial prize to remind the world that Sweden was still there. If only, dear reader, they could remind us of how exciting and innovative it once was as well!

Complete with faux-slander of Joan Robinson

For many years did the land of the Econ, where rarely even a derivative was to be found, thus remain. Your storyteller must sadly report, gentle reader, that this was a time of great silence and boredom indeed - and little but pestilence and inanity is bred in the bosom of boredom. Neoclassical banality followed absurdity, to be exposed only by the occasional symposiums provoked by troublemakers such as the god-in-exile, Sraffa, and a particular woman of imperfect repute.

All this talk of "rotten English dogs" and the impuging of Joan's virtue makes it seem like it was written by Maurice Allais.


Also, the Swedes shoud get some kind of a prize for most economic contributions per capita. Maybe name it after a famous inventor or something.

And here's a finale (for Robert V):

So your tired storyteller must end this saga with a word of caution. Perhaps at this point we should lay down our aspirations for a grand system and allow each of the battalions to roam independently for a while, proceeding on their own, examining each other in passing, learning from each other, each taking what is useful to their particular research program and leaving behind what is not. In time, if the gods are kind, there might be some convergence on some principles and possibly even a few conclusions, so that thereupon the discipline may be a bit more honest and maybe even helpful to humanity at large. But if there is not such a convergence, let us not take arms and violently charge each other in the name of ideological purity - for then we might slaughter and bury much of what is insightful and useful. Let us then listen, reflect critically, and proceed with caution.

Nonetheless, we need not rashly dismiss the dream outright. It is not unthinkable that a new conceptual revolution with the ferocity and thoroughness of the 1871 one could yet happen...and perhaps even sooner than we might expect.