Richard F. Teichgraeber

Rethinking Das Adam Smith Problem

During the last decade, there has been a steady growth in scholarship concerning the moral and philosophical dimensions of Adam Smiths economic theory. The reasons are various: a determination to take Smith out of the dark shadow cast on him by Karl Marx, the perceived intellectual impoverishment of socialism, and an historical concern for tracing the peculiarly Scottish dimensions of the Wealth of Nations (1776). This renewed interest in Smith appears to be more than a sudden intellectual fashion. The now completed publication of the “Glasgow Edition of the Works and Correspondence of Adam Smith” provides the basis for the work of systematically reconstructing Smiths intellectual career. Most students of Smith would agree that at the moment this work of reconstruction has just begun. One of the curious features of recent Adam Smith scholarship has been its perfunctory treatment of “ das Adam Smith Problem ,” a problem that once seemed at the very center of understanding the moral and philosophical dimensions of Smiths work. In the last decades of the nineteenth century a group of German scholars coined that phrase to describe what they saw as a possibly fundamental break between the assumptions that guided Smiths first work, The Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759), and those that supported the economic theory of his later work, the Wealth of Nations . On the one hand, Smiths explanation of moral judgment was based upon the psychological principle of “sympathy,” a capacity inherent in every individual which allows a person to “enter into” the situation of another and thereby bring his own “sentiments” into accord with those of his fellow.

‘Less Abused than I had Reason to Expect’: The Reception of The Wealth of Nations in Britain, 1776–90

When Adam Smith set out to re-shape the dominant economic policies and assumptions of his time, he knew success in pressing for ‘free trade’ would depend on his ability to imprint his views on the minds of contemporary statesmen and legislators. But he was never confident that this operation might take place during his lifetime. In the Wealth of Nations , he declared that to expect freedom of trade to be accepted entirely in Great Britain was ‘as absurd as to expect that an Oceana or Utopia should ever be established in it’, and this was by no means an offhand remark. Much of the massive book was coloured by Smiths awareness that liberal economic doctrines, whatever their considerable intellectual merits, ran far ahead of actual political and social attitudes in eighteenth-century Europe. In the first half of the nineteenth century, a variety of political and economic developments of course refuted Smiths view that ‘free trade’ was an unattainable ideal. But the historical verification of his economic thinking was a slow, difficult, and limited process.

The Boundaries of economics

This volume examines themes that complicate the conventional economists view of the world and thereby provide for a notably more complex, and humane, subject of study than the traditional Homo economicus. Written by economists and philosophers, these essays attempt to place neoclassical economic theory, especially conventional textbook micro-economic theory, in the broader context of other social sciences and modern economics. In doing so, the book aims to find the boundaries of economics and to define more sharply its relationship to other kinds of inquiry. Though the widespread use of textbook microtheory in business, economic, and political analysis is a clear testament to its power, the restrictions and artificialities of neoclassical assumptions give cause for worry even to many economists. This book examines the extent to which the economists paradigm - that man is characterized chiefly by self-interested goals and rational choice of means - is useful in studying traditional noneconomic fields such as philosophy, political theory, and rhetoric. It also looks at how insights from other disciplines are changing - and perhaps improving - the current practice of economics.

BEYOND “ACADEMICIZATION”: THE POSTWAR AMERICAN UNIVERSITY AND INTELLECTUAL HISTORY

The still astonishing expansion of the American university since World War II has transformed the nations intellectual and cultural life in myriad ways. Most intellectual historians familiar with this period would agree, I suppose, that among the conspicuous changes is the sheer increase in the size and diversity of intellectual and cultural activity taking place on campuses across the country. After all, we know that colleges and universities that employ us also provide full- and part-time academic appointments to novelists, poets, playwrights, filmmakers, choreographers, composers, classical and jazz musicians, painters, photographers, and sculptors, even though most of them probably began their careers with little or no desire to join us in the halls of academe. This now widespread employment practice has decentralized the nations literary and artistic talent. It also has made for a manifold increase in degree-granting programs in writing and the creative arts. One example will suffice here. When World War II ended, there were a small handful of university-based creative-writing programs. Over the course of the next thirty years, the number increased to fifty-two. By 1985, there were some 150 graduate degree programs offering an MA, MFA, or PhD. As of 2004, there were more than 350 creative-writing programs in the United States, all staffed by practicing writers and poets, many of whom now also hold advanced degrees in creative writing. (If one includes current undergraduate degree programs, the number grows to 720.)