Barbara Miller Lane: 10 Favorite Books on Architecture

In honor of #Archtober, NYC’s month-long celebration of architecture and design, Barbara Miller Lane took the time to share with us her “top ten” architecture titles. Lane is the author of Houses for a New World: Builders and Buyers in American Suburbs.  Often dismissed as “little boxes, made of ticky-tacky,” the tract houses of America’s postwar suburbs represent the twentieth century’s most successful experiment in mass housing. Lane’s is the first comprehensive history.

Pioneers of the Modern Movement from William Morris to Walter Gropius
Nikolaus Pevsner

Writing in exile from his native Germany, this future giant among twentieth century architectural historians traced the influences of the English Arts and Crafts movement in Germany, and saw the movement as culminating in the famous Bauhaus led by Walter Gropius. Pevsner thus wedded the history of major buildings to the broader history of design (as revealed in furniture, wall paper, textiles, ironwork, print making and painting). He described the Bauhaus in Germany as the culmination of “modern” movements in all the arts. Pevsner inspired many works on the history of design, and he also brought to the attention of architectural historians everywhere the importance of modern Germany in the development of modern architecture. Beautifully written and illustrated.

The Shingle Style and the Stick Style:
Architectural Theory and Design from Downing to the Origins of Wright
Vincent Scully

In this classic study, as in his earlier work of 1955 (The Shingle Style: Architectural Theory and Design from Richardson to the Origins of Wright), Scully modified the patterns of American architectural history writing to include the history of innovative wooden buildings (mostly residences) of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Scully identified a broad movement in American domestic architecture, one that stemmed from rustic and rural origins in American culture. He also traced the influence in the U. S. of important British architects such as Norman Shaw. Scully introduced into the mainstream of American architectural history writing a new canon of architects, men and firms like Bruce Price, Wilson Eyre, Peabody & Stearns, and McKim, Meade and White.

A History of Architecture:
Settings and Rituals
Spiro Kostof

For far too long, the history of architecture was regarded as the story of a few great masters, and their few great masterpieces. Kostof’s 1985 book signaled a broad change in writing about the history of architecture. Now, buildings were to be seen as embedded in their environments—in the streets and street patterns that surrounded them, and also in their intellectual, economic, religious and social contexts. Buildings, Kostof argued, were part of cities, so that the history of architecture must also include the history of urban form. The story of architecture also, Kostof said, reached beyond Western Europe and the United States to include most other areas of the world. A brilliant and unusually readable book that can be enjoyed by students, teachers at all levels, and casual readers.

Living Downtown:
The History of Residential Hotels in the United States
Paul Groth

If architectural history is to deal with residential design, then we need to know about all residential design, not just the design of free-standing houses for wealthy patrons. Living Downtown examines one collective version of residential architecture, the residential hotel, a frequent place to live for American urban dwellers in the nineteenth and early twentieth century, during a period of rapid urbanization. Groth discusses a wide range of types, from luxury hotels, used by wealthy families who still maintained homes in the country, all the way along the social spectrum to the boarding houses used by workers in urban enterprises. Groth brings to bear on this topic a strong knowledge of urban society and economics, while providing masterful analyses of the entire range of housing plans. The design of residential hotels, though such dwellings are out of favor now, offers many lessons for the urban housing of the future.

Second Suburb:
Levittown, Pennsylvania
Dianne Harris ed.

Between 1945 and about 1965, the American urban landscape was transformed by great swathes of new “tract houses”, built outside the old cities and containing radically new house designs. To the extent that Americans have known much about the architecture and planning of these suburbs, they have known the name of the Levitt Brothers, builders of “Levittowns” in New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. But until very recently, even the Levitts have been remarkably neglected by serious scholars. In this path-breaking work on Levittown, Pennsylvania, the authors trace the history of design as manifested in street patterns, house types, house plans and furnishings, as well as social issues such as the sense of community among the occupants, and the town’s path toward racial integration. A good beginning to what I hope will be a new era in writing about American domestic architecture.

The Food Axis:
Cooking, Eating, and the Architecture of American Houses
Elizabeth C. Cromley

Cromley is a major writer about the typologies of American residential design—about the history of bedrooms, for example, and the history of apartment dwellings. In The Food Axis, she turns to cooking and eating, central functions of everyday life. But she finds that cooking and eating also depend, in their location and the designs that serve them, on the provision and storage of foodstuffs. Cromley deals with the whole of American history, an ambitious focus. The book is full of wonderful insights about the history of dining rooms, kitchens, and food storage areas. A must for those interested in the everyday functions of buildings.

Hitler at Home
Despina Stratigakos

Even though buildings are often products of a broad intellectual and social context, sometimes political power plays a dominant role in building design. This is most often the case in buildings designed for autocrats, for kings and dictators. Adolf Hitler had, it can be argued, absolute power in Germany from 1933 to 1945, and he commissioned many buildings. He was himself an architect manqué. There are a number of books that deal with Hitler’s building program in its entirely, but none until Hitler at Home deals with Hitler’s own residences. Drawing on many archives, including the papers of Gerdy Troost, an interior designer and the wife of Hitler’s first official architect, Stratigakos shows how Hitler’s preferences for his own dwellings blended a rather modern attitude to design with a rustic nostalgia and a kind of heavy abstemiousness, all qualities that he sought to display as indicative of his character as Leader of the Nazi state. A major work of scholarship.

Houses without Names:
Architectural Nomenclature and the Classification of America’s Common Houses
Thomas E. Hubka

Thomas Hubka shows us almost all of America’s typical house types, categorizes them, and explains how to read the plans from the exterior. American domestic architecture has been greatly neglected by architectural historians, except for those houses designed by “great architects” or designed for “great families”. Hubka’s book makes a giant step forward in our understanding our visual environment.

Looking Beyond the Icons:
Midcentury Architecture, Landscape, and Urbanism
Richard Longstreth

In this collection of persuasive writings, Richard Longstreth urges American architectural and urban historians to pay more attention to mid-century building and landscape design. New forms of shopping centers, new kinds of community buildings, new types of buildings for business, and above all, “extraordinary” new kinds of suburbs, are the focus of the author’s essays. The book represents an important shift of emphasis from “the icons”, that is, from the “masters of modern architecture” emphasis of many architectural historians, and from the focus on earlier periods by many historians of planning. Longstreth sees landscape as the “central defining component of post-World War II development.”

The Strait Gate:
Thresholds and Power in Western History
Daniel Jütte

Doors are the thresholds between public space and private or semi-private space. As such, they are sites of power: the power to admit or bar entry, the power to permit or prevent exit. According to Daniel Jütte, door-design has therefore accumulated strong symbolic meanings in every society. This erudite book focuses on the “early modern” period (c. 1400-1800), but it has broad implications for the architectural history of other periods in history and for non-Western societies. It inspires architectural historians to think more carefully about passageways—about buildings as penetrable from the street and streets as accessible from the surrounding buildings. The author plans a sequel on windows.

LaneBarbara Miller Lane is Andrew W. Mellon Professor Emeritus in the Humanities and Research Professor in Growth and Structure of Cities at Bryn Mawr College. Her books include Architecture and Politics in Germany, 1918–1945, National Romanticism and Modern ArchitectureHousing and Dwelling, and Houses for a New World.

Raffi Grinberg: Survival Techniques for Proof-Based Math

GrinbergReal analysis is difficult. In addition to learning new material about real numbers, topology, and sequences, most students are also learning to read and write rigorous proofs for the first time. The Real Analysis Lifesaver by Raffi Grinberg is an innovative guide that helps students through their first real analysis course while giving them a solid foundation for further study. Below, Grinberg offers an introduction to proof-based math:




Raffi Grinberg is an entrepreneur and former management consultant. He graduated with honors from Princeton University with a degree in mathematics in 2012. He is the author of The Real Analysis Lifesaver: All the Tools You Need to Understand Proofs.

Ben Peters: Announcing “555 Questions to Make Digital Keywords Harder”

This post appears concurrently at Culture Digitally.

I have relatives who joke that our family motto ought to be “if there’s a harder way, we’ll find it.” Like all jokes, this one rings true–at times painfully true. Everyone, of course, seeks convenience and yet we discover so often the opposite—new hardness, challenges, problems—that prove both uncomfortable and useful. Perhaps (if you’ll forgive the perverse suggestion!), critical digital teaching and scholarship should be harder as well.

How should we make digital technology criticism harder? How should critical engagement with tech discourse best carry on? What intellectual challenges does it currently face? What challenges must it face?

If you haven’t already seen it, Sara Watson released her new and significant report on the state of tech criticism last week. I am excited to announce the release of another kind of resource that just might help us keep after such questions—especially in our classrooms.

Please enjoy and share this freely downloadable, 35-page teaching resource now available on the Princeton University Press website:

“555 Questions to Make Digital Keywords Harder: A Teaching Resource for Digital Keywords: A Vocabulary of Information Society and Culture

555 questions image 2Use this document as you will. Many may use it to support preexisting courses; a bold few may organize critical responses to it. The questions that prompted its creation are straightforward: Is it possible to gather enough material to generate and sustain a semester of discussion in undergraduate and graduate courses based on or around the volume Digital Keywords: A Vocabulary of Information Society and Culture? Can this document, paired with that volume, sustain a stand-alone course? Whatever the answers, the document’s purpose is to complicate—not to simplify—keyword analysis for all. Keywords are supposed to be hard.

Each essay in the volume receives four sections of notes. (1) Background music suggests music that could be played in the classroom as students shuffle in and out of class; the music is meant to prompt students’ talking and thinking about the topic at hand. (2) What can we learn from the contributor listing? fosters the vital habit of learning to understand not only the reading content but also the author and his or her background. (3) Exercise suggests an activity to prompt discussion at the start of a lecture or seminar—and to be shared at the end of a class in order to encourage sustained thinking about a given keyword essay in the next class. Students may also be asked to bring prepared lists with them at the start of a class. Finally, (4) discussion prompts are meant to raise one thread of harder questions, not easy answers, for classroom debate. Most of these 555 questions are meant to model conversation pathways that elevate the theoretical stakes of thinking with and in language.

This document is in some ways an antidote to the editorial instinct to consolidate, polish, and finalize the topics raised in this volume. As the editor of this fine volume, I stand convinced that these twenty-five essays constitute state-of-the-art and definitive scholarly approaches to significant keywords. In fact it is because I am convinced of the volume’s virtues that I seek here to test them—and I know no better way to do that than to ask questions that unravel, challenge, and extend the threads of thought woven together in the essays themselves. I am sure I join my fellow contributors in inviting readers, students, and scholars to do the same with these essays.

“555 Questions” is also something of a methodological extension of Williams’s keywords project—that is, these 555 questions are meant not to provoke particular responses so much as, in admittedly sometimes slapdash and zigzag ways, to model the type of language-based discussion that all sensitive users of language may engage in on their own terms. In other words, most of the questions raised in these pages require little more than taking language and its consequences seriously—at least initially. I am sure I have not done so in these pages with any more fertility or force than others; nevertheless, I offer these pages as a working witness to the generative capabilities of language analysis to get along swimmingly with both the real-world empiricism of the social sciences and the textual commitments of the humanities. I have not questioned my own introduction to the volume, which I leave to others, although I’ll leave off with this quote from it:

“No one can escape keywords so deeply woven into the fabric of daily talk. Whatever our motivations we—as editor and contributors—have selected these keywords because we believe the world cannot proceed without them. We invite you to engage and to disagree. It is this ethic of critical inquiry we find most fruitful in Williams. Keyword analysis is bound to reward all those who take up Williams’s unmistakable invitation to all readers: Which words do unavoidably significant work in your life and the world, and why?”


Kenneth Rogoff: Just the Big Bills Pazhalsta

Here is the third post in our blog series by Kenneth Rogoff, author of The Curse of Cash. Read the first post here, and the second here

RogoffIn most emerging markets, cash from advanced countries is at best a mixed blessing. On occasion it helps facilitate legitimate business transactions where banking services are inadequate, but it also plays a big role in crime and corruption. Russian news sources have posted pictures of a massive stack of $100 bills, over $120 million worth, found in the home of an official who was supposed to be in charge of Russia’s anti-corruption agency. Of course, as the book discusses, it is folly to think the mass of stashed cash is all abroad. Virtually every estimate suggests that at least half of all U.S. dollars are held domestically. Some have argued that the costs of cash in crime and tax evasion are a “small price to pay” for civil liberties. But this argument applies to banning all cash, and does not really do much to justify the big notes that allow criminals, tax evaders, and corrupt officials to hide, hoard, and port massive amounts.

The book continues to generate a great deal of discussion in general, with many very positive reviews coming in the past two weeks (here, here, here, here, and here, for example). Freakanomics (as always) does an excellent job explaining the ideas and issues, as does the The New Yorker, which also talks extensively about the Swedish experience (covered at the end of chapter 7 in the book).

The UK now has a group campaigning for the country to go cashless by 2020. The group’s webpage echoes many of the arguments made in The Curse of Cash, in particular highlighting how the bulk of cash is used to facilitate crime, tax evasion, and black economy. The group makes the case that coordinated action by stakeholders can accomplish things relatively quickly and effectively without requiring any new legislation. They are definitely on to something. As my book argues, a key feature of cash that distinguishes it from other transactions media that criminals might use is that it can be spent virtually anywhere. If, for example, more and more retailers refuse to take cash (already a trend), that will have a direct impact. While this is very interesting and encouraging, my book argues that society will want to keep small bills indefinitely for a variety of reasons including privacy, dealing with power outages etc. The group’s timeline might be too ambitious—again the book argues that it is important to go slow to allow time for adjustments, to implement policies for financial inclusion, and to allow time to deal with unanticipated issues.

Indeed, virtually all the recent reviews of the book are very attuned to the subtleties of why getting rid of big bills but not small ones might be a happy medium, and The Business Insider has produced an explainer. The recent print reviews also by and large recognize the manifold preparations that negative-interest-rate policy require, and thus why the early experiences in Europe and particularly Japan might be less informative about how negative rates might work in the future than some commentators seem to believe.

Of course, there are still people glued to the past who think the US should go back on the 1800s gold standard (see my discussion of Jim Grant in blog #2), and there are forward-looking thinkers who think that private digital currencies will put governments out of the central-banking business anyway. The book explains why this is nonsense, mainly because the government gets to make the rules in the currency business, and it always eventually wins, albeit sometimes after adapting private sector innovations. The private sector probably first invented standardized coinage, but the government ultimately appropriated the activity. The private sector first invented paper currency, again the government eventually appropriated the activity. The same will almost surely happen with digital currencies, and already government around the world have taken many steps to hinder mainstream use of cryptocurrencies.

On a different note, there are a couple of otherwise very positive reviews which, in passing, allude to a controversy surrounding my 2009 Princeton University Press book with Carmen Reinhart. In fact, there is no controversy around that book, and never has been. In 2013 there was a debate over a short, un-refereed 2010 conference proceedings note. There is an interesting recent discussion of the perils of debt complacency by Reinhart 2016.

RogoffKenneth S. Rogoff, the Thomas D. Cabot Professor of Public Policy at Harvard University and former chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, is the coauthor of the New York Times bestseller This Time Is Different: Eight Centuries of Financial Folly (Princeton). He appears frequently in the national media and writes a monthly newspaper column that is syndicated in more than fifty countries. He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His latest book is The Curse of Cash.

Kenneth Rogoff: Negative interest rates are an emotional topic, too

Presenting the second post in a blog series by Kenneth Rogoff, author of The Curse of Cash. If you missed the first installment, read it here.


The book continues to create a vigorous debate about moving to a less-cash (not cashless) society with only smaller denomination bills; you can see various TV and radio discussion here. Below I’d like to respond to a provocative review in the Wall Street Journal.

But first a few other points that have come up: the gun lobby continues to seem particularly exercised about losing large bills. Perhaps the concern is that without convenient large notes, the government might have an easier time enforcing registration and background checks on people who buy firearms. A broader take is the American Thinker piece “Washington’s Endgame: First Your Guns Then Your Cash.” I can only say that I am not very sympathetic.

I try in the book to efficiently cover every possible misconception that people might have about where all the missing big bills are (even the spirit world), but I am afraid I missed one. Writing in the Numismatic News, Patrick A Heller suggests that we all should know “that a sizeable percentage of this (missing cash) is held by central banks as reserves.” Well, not really. Foreign central-bank dollar holdings are almost entirely in the form of electronic bills and bonds. Some foreign banks do hold physical U.S. dollars to meet customer demand, but most world holdings of dollars are in the underground economy (crime and tax evasion). As the book discusses extensively, foreign demand mostly likely accounts for less than 50% of total U.S. dollars outstanding.

In his thoughtful Finance and Development review, Peter Garber asks why not just make $100 bills larger and bulkier, then we don’t need to get rid of them. Well, if we make them ten times heavier and ten times bulkier, yes, that would be another approach (albeit not equivalent to mine, because tenfold oversized notes would be easier to tabulate, and you could probably pack them tighter unless the bills are larger still). But seriously, what is the difference, the symbolism? Anyway, I have no objections to leaving a giant $100 bill for collectors. Garber also argues that if the physical dollar becomes less prominent internationally, the electronic dollar will suffer. Maybe once upon a time that was true, but it is almost irrelevant today in the legal tax-paying world, domestic or foreign. Also, let’s not forget my plan leaves plenty leaves small bills, so the symbolism is still there.

This takes us to Jim Grant’s Wall Street Journal review. Several people I respect think Grant is a very smart guy who likes to be provocative, but I would to take up some of his simple errors and profound misconceptions.

Grant has little interest in the main part of the book, which argues that the large notes, which dominate the currency supply, do far more to facilitate tax evasion and crime than legal transactions. He posits that it would be so much simpler to legalize narcotics and simplify taxes, and that “Mr. Rogoff considers neither policy option.” In point of fact, I address legalizing marijuana on page 69, and the book goes on to detail the many other ways cash is used in crime besides drugs: racketeering, money laundering, human trafficking, extortion, corruption, you name it. Simplifying taxes is a great idea with lots of efficiency benefits I have written often about. But to think that any realistic simplification plan would end tax evasion is delusional.

Grant focuses his ire almost entirely on negative interest rates, saying “You rub your eyes. You can recall no precedent. There has never been one in 5,000 years of banking.” Well, Grant is known for his interesting historical analyses, but this statement is misleading at best. Before paper currency, governments routinely paid negative interest rates on metallic currencies by calling in coins and shaving them (as I discuss at some length in chapter 2). That might not immediately imply a negative rate on other debt instruments, but if your debt is repaid in physically debased pence that have much less silver than the ones you lent, it is a negative interest rate in any meaningful sense.

In modern times, the existence of paper currency prevents any significant negative rate on other government debt because of fear of a run on cash, though Europe and Japan have managed to get away with slight negative rates. So the statement that this has not happened until now is, well, hardly profound. Besides, there have been countless episodes of significant negative real interest rates on government bonds, that is when the nominal (face value) interest rate is not nearly enough to keep up with inflation, for example in the 1970s, when inflation went over 13% in the U.S. and over 20% in the U.K. and Japan.

In any event, my plan excludes small savers. And if effective negative-rate policy were possible, it would likely be quite short lived, and would probably cause a lot less problems that a decade of zero rates or high inflation. If the Fed could engage in effective monetary policy in a deep recession, most savers will gain far more than they will lose. It would bring back jobs more quickly, restore house and stock prices faster, and it would actually raise nominal rates on long-term bonds through restoring expected inflation to target. The suggestion that negative rates are just a policy to rob savers is empty polemic.

In chapter 12, I discuss populist perspectives on central banking, including Ron Paul and a return of the gold standard. Grant, evidently, was tapped to be Paul’s Fed Chairman had his 2012 presidential campaign been successful. On CNBC Squawkbox, Grant compares Fed chair Ben Bernanke to the head of Zimbabwe’s central bank, because he is just sure that all the “money printing” Bernanke was doing would lead to high inflation. Of course, what Bernanke was doing was not so much printing money as exchanging short-term central bank reserves for long-term government debt, as a reader of chapter 9 would understand. (And critically, the government fully owns the central bank.) I am not a big believer in the wonders of quantitative easing, but those who predicted that it would lead to very high inflation made an epic wrong call. Grant not only hates negative rates, he says he doesn’t like zero rates, and said back then the Fed should promptly raise them. Many other central banks, including the European Central Bank, tried just that—the results were disastrous.

Lastly, it is worth mentioning that by and large the financial industry lobbies heavily against negative rates. Leading financial newspapers regularly publish articles by banking industry proponents that argue how negative rates will deter governments from pursuing structural reform. Some of their arguments—about the problems with implementing negative rates today, having to with institutional, tax, and legal issues that need to be fixed before negative rates can be effective—are legitimate. The Curse of Cash addresses all that, and explains that it will take a long time even if the problem of a run into cash is taken off the table. Ultimately, banks make money off the difference between the rates they pay to borrow and the rates they charge to lend, and once the preparations are made, they will not have cause to complain.

In the end, if global real interest rates stay low for the next decade, there will likely be occasional periods of negative rates during recessions in most advanced economies, whether we like it or not. Part II of the book explains how to make negative rate policy better and more effective. Anyone who wants to understand it should read The Curse of Cash.

Kenneth S. Rogoff, the Thomas D. Cabot Professor of Public Policy at Harvard University and former chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, is the coauthor of the New York Times bestseller This Time Is Different: Eight Centuries of Financial Folly (Princeton). He appears frequently in the national media and writes a monthly newspaper column that is syndicated in more than fifty countries. He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Kenneth Rogoff: Cash is an emotional topic

Read on for the first post in a blog series by Kenneth Rogoff, author of The Curse of Cash:

In The Curse of Cash, I make a serious case for phasing out the bulk of paper currency, particularly large denomination notes. Since pre-publication copies started floating around just a few weeks ago, a number of engaging, thoughtful reviews have published (for example, here, here, here, here and here). But mere rumors of the book’s impending publication have also evoked an extraordinary number of visceral comments (online and by email): “This idea is almost as bad as banning semi-automatic weapons,” is one theme. Another is, “Why should people feel guilty about doing business in cash to avoid paying taxes when we all know the government will just waste the money?” Having first explained two decades ago why governments that print big bills are penny-wise and pound-foolish, I am well familiar with how emotional this topic can be.

There have also been some comments having to do with individual liberty and wondering if criminals will use other currencies and transactions media. I address these and many other serious concerns in the book, and I have tried to do so in a clear and engaging way that anyone can understand. But here is a quick version to straighten out some key points:

The most fundamental point is to emphasize that the book argues for a less-cash society, not a cash-less one. There is a world of difference. If the U.S. first phased out one hundred-dollar bills and fifty-dollar bills, and then after perhaps two decades phased out twenty-dollar bills, there would still be ten-dollar bills and below. I strongly argue these should be left around indefinitely, and explain why it would be a mistake to withdraw cash entirely, as opposed to just larger bills. Even if we get down to ten-dollar bills, making an anonymous cash purchase of $1,000 would still be pretty easy—and even a $100,000 purchase would require only a briefcase. The aim of my proposal is to get at wholesale tax evasion by businesses and higher-income individuals, and by large-scale criminal enterprises, e.g., drug lords and crime bosses. With ten-dollar bills and below—which will be left in place indefinitely—there will always be ways for ordinary people to make private (anonymous) payments and for low-income individuals to buy groceries.

Any reader of the book will see that I am not proposing getting rid larger bills as segue to an outright abolition of cash—I explain why I’m against eliminating physical cash into the very distant future, perhaps another century. But for all the advantages of cash, we have to recognize that the current system is badly off kilter. A lot of central banks and finance ministries know it, as do justice departments and tax authorities.

What about the argument that in lieu of big bills, criminals and tax evaders are always going to find other ways to make anonymous payments? Obviously this is an important point, and one that comes up throughout in the book. But there is a reason why cash is king. No other anonymous transactions vehicle, however, is as remotely easy to use. Gold coins have to be weighed and assayed, and can hardly be spent at the tobacco shop. Uncut diamonds are even less liquid. Bitcoin is somewhat anonymous (albeit traceable in many instances), but governments have been putting up all sorts of tax rules and restrictions on financial institutions that make it a very poor substitute for cash. And by the way, governments will continue to do this with any new transaction media they view as facilitating tax evasion, money laundering, and crime. As I explain in the book, big bills facilitate big crime—taking them out of circulation will have a significant effect.

Finally, another very early comment on the book, of a vastly different type, is from someone I greatly respect but do not always agree with, Edward Chancellor. Unfortunately, he makes a couple of absolutely critical misrepresentations. Most importantly, he seems happy to blur the critical distinction between “less cash” and cashless. He slips easily into the “cashless” phraseology, for example, when wondering how to give money to beggars in my world. I am impressed if he can give out one hundred-dollar bills to beggars, but if so, I think he would find that a fistful of tens is also welcome.

I agree with Edward that to take advantage of today’s ultra-low real interest rates, it would be a good idea for governments right now to issue very long-term bonds (see my recent article); I have no objections to his preferred perpetuities. But there is an enormous difference between issuing registered perpetual bonds and issuing anonymous currency; that is my whole point. By the way, as the book notes, anonymous bearer bonds were effectively killed a long time ago.

Edward and I disagree on negative interest rates, but that it is whole different can of worms. I’ll just say that, in addition to explaining the issues, the section in the book on negative rates shows that effective negative-interest-rate policy is going to require laying many years of ground work—not a recommendation for something the ECB or the Bank of Japan can do tomorrow. But for reasons discussed, it is by a wide margin the best plan for the future. All the others are much worse.

In the meantime, anyone who has looked serious at the data will realize that even as currency use is declining in the legal economy, it is growing in the underground economy. Something is badly out of whack, and it is time to have a serious discussion about it.

Kenneth S. Rogoff, the Thomas D. Cabot Professor of Public Policy at Harvard University and former chief economist of the International Monetary Fund, is the coauthor of the New York Times bestseller This Time Is Different: Eight Centuries of Financial Folly (Princeton). He appears frequently in the national media and writes a monthly newspaper column that is syndicated in more than fifty countries. He lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Joel Brockner: Are We More or Less Likely to Continue Behaving Morally?

by Joel Brockner

This post appears concurrently on Psychology Today.

Sometimes when we do something it causes us to continue in the same vein, or show a more extreme version of the behavior. The method of social influence known as “the foot-in-the-door” technique is based on this tendency. For instance, salespeople usually won’t ask you to make a big purchase, such as a yearlong subscription, right off the bat. Instead, they will first ask you to take a small step, such as to accept an introductory offer that will only last for a little while. Then, at a later date they will ask you to make the big purchase. Research shows that people are more likely to go along with a big request if they previously agreed to a small related request. A now-classic study suggested that people were willing to put a large, ugly sign in front of their homes saying, “Drive Carefully,” if, a few days before they simply signed their name to a petition supporting safe driving.

Other times, however, when people do something it makes them less likely to continue to behave that way. For example, if people made a charitable contribution to the United Way at work, they may feel less compelled to do so if the United Way came knocking on their door at home. In fact, if solicited at home they would probably say something to the effect of, “I gave at the office.” Research by Benoit Monin and Dale Miller on moral licensing shows a similar tendency. Once people do a good deed it makes them less likely to continue, at least for a while.

The notion of moral licensing assumes that most of us want to see ourselves as open-minded or generous. Engaging in behavior that is open-minded or generous allows us to see ourselves in these desirable ways, which ironically may free us up to behave close-mindedly or selfishly. Regarding open-mindedness, consider the evolution that has transpired in the management literature on the meaning of diversity. Originally, diversity referred to legally protected categories set forth in the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which was designed to prevent employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. Over time, the definition of diversity has broadened, such that employers increasingly use non-legal dimensions – e.g., personality traits, culture, and communication style – as indicators of diversity. An example of a broad definition of diversity may be found on the website of Dow AgroSciences: “Diversity … extends well beyond descriptors such as race, gender, age or ethnicity; we are intentional about including aspects of diversity that address our differences in culture, background, experiences, perspectives, personal and work style.” Modupe Akinola and her colleagues recently discovered that law firms that adopted broader definitions of diversity had fewer women and minorities in their employee base. Thus, behaving open-mindedly (adopting a broad definition of diversity) was associated with law firms acting close-mindedly towards women and minorities.

Regarding generosity, studies have shown that people’s willingness to donate to a charitable cause is reduced if, beforehand, they wrote a short story about themselves using morally positive words (e.g., fair, kind) than if they wrote a short story about themselves using morally negative words (selfish, mean). The same thing happened if people simply thought about an instance in which they behaved morally rather than immorally. When people’s self-image of being moral is top of mind, they feel licensed to behave in less than moral ways.

So, on the one hand, there is evidence that behaving in a certain way or even thinking about those behaviors causes people to do more of the same. On the other hand, there is evidence that prior acts (or reflecting on prior acts) of morality may make people less likely to behave consistently with their past actions. What makes it go one way rather than the other? One watershed factor is how people think about or construe their behavior. All behavior can be construed in abstract ways or in concrete ways. Abstract construals reflect the “forest,” which refers to the central or defining feature of a behavior. Concrete construals reflect the “trees,” which refers to the specific details of a behavior. Abstract construals focus on the why or deeper meaning of behavior whereas concrete construals focus on the details of how the behavior was enacted. For instance, “developing a procedure” may be construed abstractly as increasing work efficiency or concretely as writing down step-by-step instructions. “Contributing to charity” may be construed abstractly as doing the right thing or concretely as writing a check.

When people construe their behavior abstractly they see it as reflective of their values, their identity, in short, of themselves. When people engage in behavior perceived to reflect themselves it induces them to show more of the same. However, when the same behavior is construed concretely, it is seen as less relevant to who they are. A moral act viewed concretely provides evidence to people that they are moving in the direction of being a moral person, thereby freeing them up subsequently to succumb to more selfish desires. Supporting this reasoning, Paul Conway and Johanna Sheetz showed that when people viewed their acts of morality abstractly they continued to behave morally whereas when they viewed those same behaviors concretely they subsequently behaved more selfishly.

Not only is it intriguing that moral behavior can foster more of the same or less, but also it is practically important to consider when behaving morally will have one effect rather than the other. People in authority positions, such as parents, teachers, and managers, typically want those over whom they have authority to behave morally over the longer haul. This may happen when children, students, and employees construe their acts of morality abstractly rather than concretely. Moreover, authorities have at their disposal a variety of ways to bring about abstract construals, such as: (1) encouraging people to think about why they are engaging in a given behavior rather than how they are doing so, (2) getting people to think categorically (e.g., by asking questions such as, “Downsizing is an example of what?”) rather than in terms of examples (“What is an example of organizational change?”), and (3) thinking about their behavior from the vantage point of greater psychological distance; for instance, when people think about how their extra efforts to benefit the organization will pay off over the long-term, they may be more likely to engage in such activities consistently than if they merely thought about the more immediate benefits.

In The Process Matters, I emphasize that even small differences in how people are treated by authorities can have a big impact on what they think, feel, and do. Here, I am raising a related point: a subtle difference in how people think about their behavior dictates whether their expressions of morality will beget more or less.

Joel Brockner is the Phillip Hettleman Professor of Business at the Columbia Business School. He is the author of A Contemporary Look at Organizational Justice: Multiplying Insult Times Injury and Self-Esteem at Work, and the coauthor of Entrapment in Escalating Conflicts.


Mark Vellend: A book is everything a tweet is not (but please tweet about my book)

by Mark Vellend

This post appears concurrently on Dynamic Ecology.

VellendI was not at the ESA meeting this year, but a handful of advance copies of my book, The Theory of Ecological Communities, were, and Margaret Kosmala was kind enough to send me a photo of the first buyers. I’d like to be able to play it cool and say this was just another ho-hum moment in the life of a scientist, but it wasn’t. I stared at the photo for a good while with a huge smile on my face. Maybe that was just because smiling is contagious and it was instinctual to smile back at the two people smiling at me through the screen. But there was also a sense of deep gratification. Following in the footsteps of some of my scientific heroes, my name was on the cover of a green and yellow book, the book was now born, and at least two people other than my Mom and Dad were willing to pay money for it. Success!

Writing a book is a teeny bit like having a child, but also not like it at all. The similarities: long gestation period, intense anticipation for its arrival, major investment in its success, worry about its uncertain future, and sometimes wondering what you’ve gotten yourself into. The differences: I (gender: male) actually did most of the work this time getting it to parturition, books are decidedly precocial (no diapers, bottles, tantrums, lunch boxes, or swimming lessons), I’m not sure anything I do now will influence its future, and although one might say the journey was difficult at times (f*$%ing index!), it’s not even in the same universe…I’ll just stop there instead of pretending that words can do justice to the difference on this point (just received stink eye from across the room). I guess I’m just trying to say that there’s a bit of emotion involved.

This post is the last (I think) in a short series based on thoughts that grew out of the process of writing the book. The others (here, here, and here) focused largely on scientific issues that flowed directly out of the contents of the book. In addition to the little story and handful of thoughts above, I figured I’d now step back from the content of the book, and share some thoughts on writing books in general. (Pretty thin cover story for shamelessly advertising a just-released book now available from, I know.) Before diving into this project, I had a short-lived but intense bout of wondering why anyone would write a really long document that people need to pay for in an age when nobody reads anything they can’t download for free. Now I can think of several reasons:

(1) The premise of my doubt isn’t actually true. Many ecologists do value in-depth treatments of broad topics (I certainly do) and many even value the physical book they can hold in their hands. Long live books.

(2) A contract focuses the mind. Had I decided to just write the book as some kind of online wiki (an idea at one point), I’m not sure I would have had the discipline to invest as much as I did in making it a coherent whole. A contract, timelines, formal guidelines, an encouraging editor, and the happy thought of holding a physical book in my hand one day almost certainly helped the book become a better scientific contribution than it otherwise would have been.

(3) Books endure for longer than papers. I have no evidence to support that claim, but when I think of the reference sections of my own papers, I’m pretty sure the book:paper ratio increases as you go back in time. Even if the ideas in it become obsolete, a book endures as an historical signpost, defining the state of the field at a particular point in time, in a way that papers rarely do (in my opinion). Even if scientists have no use for my book in 50 years, I can imagine historians of ecology finding it useful from time to time, long after I’m dead and gone. (Why anyone should care about the fate their writings after they’re dead and gone is an interesting existential question, but I’m happy enough to accept most of us just do seem to care.)

(4) A book is everything that a tweet is not. We consume information in increasingly smaller and faster bits, and the smaller the bit, the less the author is likely to have reflected deeply on its content. I love reading books because I can feel the intellectual depth and reflection shine through, helping advance my own understanding and appreciation of the issues to a greater extent than you’d typically get from reading a stack of papers of the same length. None of which changes the fact that I still want you to tweet my book, without thinking about it for more than a second (go! do it now!). To make it even easier, here’s a tweet from Princeton University Press for you to re-tweet.

(5) Intellectual satisfaction. During no time since my Ph.D. did I dive as deeply and broadly into the literature as I did when writing the book. Thoughts swirled, ideas popped up, links were made between previously disparate things. It’s hard to separate the writing the book itself from being on sabbatical as the source of satisfaction derived from this, but it was refreshing either way.

As a final thought, if you’re reading this wondering if you should write a book, and you can find the time to do it*, I say go for it. I assume that the fact that you’re wondering means you already have an idea what the book would be about, which is an obvious pre-requisite. In all likelihood, it will be gratifying and stimulating for you, and your field of study will be better for it. If you read my book, please let me know what you think, positive or negative (but don’t be mean or nasty). I hope it sparks some interesting conversations.

* This certainly varies between people and types of books, but I’d say you want at least a year during which you can devote a big chunk of your efforts just to this one project.

How Texas law will shape the women’s vote


The Explosive Potential of the Whole
Woman’s Health Case

by Nancy Woloch

On March 2 the Supreme Court will hear arguments about a 2013 Texas law that affects access to abortion. The law at issue in Whole Woman’s Health v. Cole requires doctors who perform abortions to have admitting privileges at a nearby hospital (no more than thirty miles from the clinic). It also requires abortion clinics to have facilities equivalent to those at an outpatient surgical center, that is, more equipment than Texas law demands in doctors’ offices where more hazardous procedures such as colonoscopies or liposuctions are performed. The rise of the Whole Woman case just as an election looms may provoke voters in ways unsought by sponsors of the Texas law.

Several Texas clinics challenged the law, but a federal appeals court, the Fifth Circuit, upheld the new requirements. The Supreme Court now faces several questions: Does the law protect women’s health, as Texas claims? Does the law impose an “undue burden” on women who seek abortions? The “undue burden” consideration arose in Planned Parenthood v. Casey (1992), which confirms the right to abortion set forth in Roe v. Wade (1973). A law can be an undue burden, states the Casey decision, if it has “the purpose or effect of placing a substantial obstacle in the path of a woman seeking an abortion.” It is likely that the Supreme Court, when it reviews the Texas case, will further explicate “undue burden,” “substantial obstacle,” and, especially, “purpose or effect.”

Texas claims that it has “wide discretion” to pass medical regulations, that it enacted the 2013 law to protect the health of those who seek abortions, that the law ensures qualified doctors, and that it cuts delay if a patient needs a hospital. The clinics contend that the state requirements were not designed to promote women’s health, that the law is a tactic to close clinics, and that it imperils women’s health by “reducing access to safe and legal abortion.” Since 2013, critics of the law charge, the 42 clinics that once provided access to abortion in Texas now number nineteen and would dwindle to ten if the law survives review. Amicus briefs that support the clinics have started to accumulate, including a brief by historians who work with legal issues. Laws that claim to protect women’s health can restrict women’s choice, the historians state, and thus “warrant careful scrutiny by this Court.” The Court will consider whether the Fifth Circuit decision reflects precedents in abortion law, as supporters of the Texas law claim, or whether the Fifth Circuit acted in error when it enabled Texas to enforce the new law, as its detractors argue.

The Whole Woman’s Health case, to be decided in June 2016, has explosive potential. The Supreme Court has not issued a major decision on abortion since Gonzales v. Carhart (2007), which upheld a federal law barring what is called “partial birth” abortion. The Whole Woman’s Health decision will affect the options of women in Texas, especially in rural Texas, who may find the right to an abortion out of reach. The decision will also affect women in Mississippi, where a kindred case, one that involves hospital admission requirements for doctors, has arisen and where only a single clinic that provides abortion remains. The Supreme Court has not yet decided whether to consider the Mississippi case, Currier v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization. The decision in Whole Woman’s Health, finally, will reach women in other states that have enacted abortion regulations similar to those in Texas, such as Wisconsin, Louisiana, and Alabama, and in states that intend to do so.

The Whole Woman’s Health decision will have further ramifications in an election year. Whichever way the Court may go—and there has no been signal as to what might happen—the conflict over the Texas law is likely to sway the women’s vote. The reappearance of a major abortion case will remind undecided women voters that state legislators, who are likely to be men (in Texas the lawmakers of 2013 were 80 percent male), can voice opinions that have an impact on women’s health – or even act to impede women’s rights under the pretext of protecting women’s health. Similarly, the Texas case will remind women voters of what a yet more conservative Supreme Court, with new members chosen by a future president, might decide. Overall, the case will prompt women voters to think about the fragility of women’s rights. Whatever happens in the Supreme Court, the timing of the Whole Woman’s Health decision may well advantage Democrats.

Woloch jacketNancy Woloch teaches history at Barnard College, Columbia University. Her books include A Class by Herself, Women and the American Experience and Muller v. Oregon: A Brief History with Documents.

Try your hand at solving an L.A. Math mystery

If you caught the rather incredible trailer for L.A. Math, you know it’s not your typical scholarly math book. Romance, crime, and mathematics don’t often go hand in hand, but emeritus professor in the Department of Mathematics at California State University Jim Stein cooked up the idea for an unconventional literary math book that would speak to students in his liberal arts math class. The end result is an entertaining, backdoor approach to practical mathematics knowledge, ranging from percentages and probability to set theory, statistics, and the mathematics of elections. Recently, Stein spoke to us about writing L.A. Math. Not only that, he left us with a mathematical mystery to solve.

L.A. Math is definitely an unusual book.  Brian Clegg described it by saying “It’s as if Ellery Queen, with the help of P. G. Wodehouse, spiced up a collection of detective tales with a generous handful of practical mathematics.”  How did you happen to write it?

JS: I absolutely loved it when he described it that way, because I was brought up on Ellery Queen.  For younger readers, Ellery Queen was one of the greatest literary detectives of the first half of the twentieth century, specializing in classic Sherlock Holmes type cases.  The Ellery Queen stories were written by the team of Manfred Dannay and Frederick Lee — and my mother actually dated one of them!

LA MathThe two other mystery writers who influenced me were Agatha Christie and Rex Stout.  Rex Stout wrote a series featuring Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin; the books are presumably written by Archie Goodwin describing their cases, so I used that as the model for Freddy Carmichael.  The relationship between Archie and Nero also served, somewhat, as a parallel for the relationship between Freddy and Pete.  Nero and Pete both have addictions — Nero wants to spend his time eating elaborate cuisine and raising orchids, and Pete wants to spend his time watching and betting on sports.  It’s up to Archie and Freddy to prod them into taking cases.

How does Agatha Christie enter the picture?

JS: I’d taught liberal arts mathematics — math for poets — maybe ten times with temporary success but no retention.  Students would learn what was necessary to pass the course, and a year later they’d forgotten all of it.  That’s not surprising, because the typical liberal arts math course has no context that’s relevant for them.  They’re not math-oriented.  I know I had several history courses discussing the Battle of Azincourt, but I don’t remember anything about it because it has no context for me.

Agatha Christie’s best-known detective is Hercule Poirot, and one day I was in a library reading a collection of short stories she had written entitled The Labors of Hercules.  Christie had a background in the classics, and did something absolutely brilliant — she constructed a series of twelve detective stories featuring Hercule Poirot, each of which was modeled, in one way or another, around the Twelve Labors of Hercules in classical mythology.  I thought to myself — why don’t I do something like that for topics in liberal arts math?  Maybe the students would remember a few of the ideas because they’d have the context of a story from which to remember it.

Could you give an example?

JS: How about this?  Why don’t we take a story from the book, and present it the way Ellery Queen would have.  Ellery Queen always played fair with the reader, giving him or her all the clues, and after all the clues had been presented, EQ would write a paragraph entitled “Challenge to the Reader”.  EQ would tell the reader “Now you have all the clues.  Can you figure out whodunit?” — or words to that effect.

OK, here’s what we’ll do.  We’ll take The Case of the Vanishing Greenbacks, Chapter 2 in L.A. Math, and present the story up to the crucial point.  Then we’ll let the reader try to figure out whodunit, and finish the story next week.

Chapter 2 – The Case of the Vanishing Greenbacks

   The phone rang just as I stepped out of the shower. It was Allen.

“Freddy, are you available for an embezzlement case?”

My biggest success had been in an embezzlement case involving a Wall Street firm specializing in bond trading. Allen had given me a whopping bonus for that one, which was one of the reasons I could afford to take it easy in L.A. I had done well in a couple of other similar cases, and had gotten the reputation of being the go-to guy in embezzlement cases. It never hurts to have a reputation for being good at something. Besides, you don’t see many guys in my line of work who can read balance sheets.

I’ve always felt it’s important to keep the cash flow positive, and the truth was that I was available for a jaywalking case if it would help the aforementioned cash flow. But it never hurts to play a little hard-to-get.

“I can probably clear my calendar if it looks interesting.”

Allen paused for a moment, either to collect his thoughts or to take a bite of one of those big greasy pastrami sandwiches he loves. “I’m pretty sure you’ll find it interesting. It’s stumped some people in L.A., and I told them I had a good man out there. BTW, that’s you.”

It’s nice to be well thought of – especially by someone in a position to send you business. I knew that Allen’s firm, though headquartered in New York, had arrangements with other firms in other cities. I didn’t really care about the details as long as the check cleared – which it always had.

“I’m certainly willing to listen. What’s the arrangement?”

“Consulting and contingency fee. Fifty‑fifty split.”

That was our usual arrangement. Burkitt Investigations got a guaranteed fee, plus a bonus for solving the case. Allen and I split it down the middle.

“OK, Allen, fill me in.”

“Ever heard of Linda Vista, Freddy?”

Temporary blank. Movie star? Socialite? Then I had it. Linda Vista was a town somewhere in Orange County with a big art community.

For those of you not up on California politics, Orange County is a bastion of conservatism. You have Orange County to thank, or blame, for Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan. But Linda Vista, which my fragmentary Spanish translates as “pretty view”, was different from your basic Orange County bastion.

The vista in Linda Vista was sufficiently linda that it had attracted a thriving artistic community.   There were plenty of artists in Linda Vista, and most of them were liberals.

As a result, Linda Vista was highly polarized. The moderates were few and far between. On the left, you had the artists, with their funky bungalows and workshops. On the right, you had the stockbrokers and real-estate moguls, living in gated communities so they wouldn’t have to have any contact with the riff-raff, except for the tradesmen delivering or repairing stuff. However, there were enough artists and hangers-on to acquire political clout – after all, it’s still one man-one vote in a democracy, rather than one dollar-one vote. Pitched battles had raged over practically every issue from A (abortion) to Z (zoning), and many of these battles had made state and even national news.

That’s all I knew about Linda Vista, other than not to try to drive down there at rush hour, which turned one hour on the 405 to more than twice that. The obvious question was: what kind of a contingency case had they got? So I asked it.

Allen filled me in. “The city is out a bunch of bucks, and each side is accusing the other of fraud and embezzlement. Because of the split in the political situation, the City Manager gave half the budget to the conservatives, and the other half to the liberals, letting each determine how to spend its half. Both sides claim to have been shortchanged.”

Allen paused to catch his breath. “I’ve got a friend who works in the City Manager’s office. I told him I had a good man out there who’d done a lot of first‑class work in embezzlement cases. Want to take a look at it?”

“Sure. How much time should I put in before I throw in the towel?” In other words, how much is the consulting fee?

“As much as you like.” In other words, since Allen’s meter wasn’t running, feel free to burn some midnight oil. “The consulting fee is $3,000, upped to ten if you figure it out and get proof.” You don’t have to be an expert at division to realize that I was guaranteed a minimum of $1,500 for the time I put in, and $5,000 if I doped it out. You also don’t have to be an expert at division to realize that Allen was getting the same amount for making a phone call. I decided to be reincarnated as an employer rather than an employee.

Allen gave me a brief description of the protagonists, and I spent a good portion of the evening with a pot of coffee and my computer, getting some background information on them. I’ll say one thing for the Information Age; it’s a lot easier to run a background check on people than it used to be. What with search engines and social networks, you save a lot on gas money and shoe leather.

The next morning I waited until after rush hour, and made the trek to Linda Vista. The City Hall was located in a section of town where the vista was a long way from linda, unless strip malls filled with 7‑11s and fast-food stores constitute your idea of attractive scenery. I found a place to park, straightened my coat and tie, and prepared for the interviews.

I was scheduled to have three of them. I had been hoping to arrange for longer interviews, but everyone’s in a rush nowadays, and I was getting a quarter-hour with each, tops. They’d all been interviewed previously – Allen had mentioned that this case had stumped others – and people are generally less than enthusiastic about being asked the same questions again. And again. The first interview was with Everett Blaisdell, conservative city councilman, who would explain why the conservatives happened to be short. The next was with Melanie Stevens, liberal city councilwoman, ditto. The last interview would be with Garrett Ryan, City Manager.

I have a bad habit. My opinion of members of groups tends to be formed by the members of those groups that I have seen before. Consequently, I was expecting the conservative Everett Blaisdell to look like a typical paunchy southern senator with big jowls. So I was a little surprised to discover that Everett Blaisdell was a forty-ish African-American who looked like he had spent years twenty through thirty as an NBA point guard.

He got right down to business. “I want you to know,” he barked, “that everything that we have done with our budget allocation has been strictly by the book. Our expenses have been completely documented.” He handed me a folder full of ledger sheets and photos of checks, which I glanced at and stashed in my briefcase.

Blaisdell was clearly angry. “The business community is the heart of Linda Vista, and it is ridiculous to suggest that it would act in a manner detrimental to its citizens. We are $198,000 short in our budget.”

You don’t expect NBA point guards to get out of breath too easily, considering the time they have to go up and down the court, but maybe Blaisdell wasn’t in shape. He paused, giving me a chance to get a question in edgewise. “Just what do you think has happened, Mr. Blaisdell?” I inquired mildly.

“I know what has happened. Melanie Stevens and her radical crowd have managed to get hold of that money. They want $200,000 to fund a work of so‑called art which I, and every right‑thinking citizen of Linda Vista, find totally offensive. It’s mighty suspicious that the missing funds, $198,000, almost precisely cover the projected cost of the statue.”

I was curious. “If you don’t mind my asking, exactly what is this statue?”

Blaisdell’s blood pressure was going up. “They are going to build a scale replica of the Statue of Liberty and submerge it in Coca‑Cola. You may know that Coca‑Cola is acidic, and it will eventually dissolve metal. They say that this so‑called dynamic representational art represents the destruction of our civil liberties by over‑commercialization. Well, let me tell you, we’ll fight it.”

He looked at his watch. “Sorry, I’ve got another appointment. When you find out what those scum have done with the money, let me know.” He walked me to his door.

It took a few minutes to locate Melanie Stevens’ office, as it was in a different wing of the building, possibly to minimize confrontations between her and Blaisdell. It was a bad day for stereotypes. My mental picture of Melanie Stevens, ultra‑liberal, was that of a long-haired hippie refugee from the ’60s. The real Melanie Stevens was a pert gray‑haired grandmother who looked like she had been interrupted while baking cookies for her grandchildren. She, too, was evidently on a tight schedule, for she said, “Sorry, I can only give you about ten minutes, but I’ve made copies of all our expenses.” More ledger sheets and photos of checks went into my briefcase.

“Let me tell you, Mr. Carmichael, that we could have used that $198,000. We planned to use it for a free clinic. I know exactly what has happened. Blaisdell has doctored the books. I’m sure glad that Ryan had the guts to ask you to look into it.”

“Blaisdell seems to think that your people are responsible for the missing funds,” I observed.

She snorted. “That’s just typical of what they do. Whenever they’re in the wrong, they lie and accuse the other side of lying. They rip off the community, and channel money into PACs. Political action committees. Or worse. Blaisdell knows he faces a stiff battle for re-election, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find that money turning up in his campaign fund.”

“He seems to think that you are going to use the funds for an art project, rather than a free clinic,” I remarked.

“He’s just blowing smoke. He knows quite well that the statue will be funded through private subscription.” She looked at her watch. “Let me know when you pin the loss on them.”

I left Stevens’ office for the last interview, with Garrett Ryan, whose anxious expression made it clear that he was not a happy camper. “Have you got any ideas yet?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve just talked to Blaisdell and Stevens. They’ve each handed me files containing what they consider to be complete documentation. They’ve each given me a story asserting their own innocence, and blaming the other. I take it that the missing amount is $198,000?”

Now it was Ryan’s turn to shake his head. “No, each side says that it is missing $198,000. Quite a coincidence. And I’ll tell you, Mr. Carmichael, despite the animosity between them, I think that they are both honorable individuals. I find it difficult to believe that either would rip the city off.”

I focused on Ryan’s coincidence. “It’s funny that they are both short exactly the same amount. Perhaps you could tell me a little more about the budgetary process.”

“It’s really quite simple. Each resident of Linda Vista is taxed a fixed amount. Any complicated tax scheme would just result in a full employment act for accountants. The previous census resulted in a $100 assessment per individual. The population of Linda Vista increased by 20% since the last census. We didn’t need any increase in operating expenditures; under my guidance we’ve done a fiscally conservative and frugal job of running the city. As a result, the Council voted to reduce everybody’s taxes by 20%. Needless to say, this was a very popular move.”

“I’ll bet it was. Did everyone pay their taxes, Mr. Ryan?”

“Everybody. We’re very proud of that ‑‑ a 100% collection rate. Despite what you may have heard, the citizens of Linda Vista are very civic‑minded. Liberals and conservatives alike.”

I’ve spent enough time with balance sheets to know that accuracy is extremely important. “Was this population increase exactly 20%, or is that merely an approximate figure?”

Ryan consulted a sheet of paper. “Exactly 20%. I have a sheet of printout that gives information to four decimal places, so I can be quite sure of that.”

Just then a phone rang. Ryan picked it up, and engaged in some political doubletalk. After a few minutes he replaced the receiver. “Sorry, Mr. Carmichael. I’m behind schedule. Let me know if you make any progress.”   We shook hands, and I left.

A couple of hours later, I got home, having stopped for a bite but still avoiding rush-hour traffic. Pete noticed my presence, and asked, “So how’d things go in Linda Vista, Freddy?”

“I had a pretty interesting day. Want to hear about it?”

He nodded. I took about fifteen minutes to describe the problem and the cast of characters. “It looks like I’ll have to spend a day or so looking over the books.”

Pete shook his head. “It seems pretty clear to me.”

I’d seen it before — everybody’s a detective. Amateurs always think they know who the guilty party is, because it fits in with their preconceptions. I didn’t know whether Pete had cast Blaisdell in the role of a political fat-cat out to line his campaign war chest, or whether he was a conservative who saw Melanie Stevens as a radical troublemaker. Anyway, you’ve got to learn not to jump to conclusions in my line of work.

“You can’t do it like that, Pete. You’ve got to trace down the paper trails. I’ve done this lots of times.”

Pete grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled something on it, and sealed it in an envelope. “Five dollars will get you twenty that the name of the guilty party is inside this envelope.”

Pete needed taking down a peg. Maybe two pegs. Besides, I liked getting four‑to‑one odds on what was obviously an even‑ money proposition. “You’ve got a bet,” I said. We wrote our names on the envelope, and Pete put it on the table next to the HDTV.

“Whenever you’re ready, we’ll unseal the envelope.” I headed back to the guesthouse for a session with the books.

Challenge to the Reader: You have all the clues. Can you name the party responsible for the missing greenbacks? We’ll give you until the next blog to figure it out, when we’ll present the conclusion to the story.

Economist Diane Coyle on the role of the global University Press

We were thrilled to see that noted economist Diane Coyle mentioned Princeton University Press in a new post on her blog, The Enlightened Economist that touches on the role of the globalized university press, the coming “disruption” in higher education, and open access:

Last week I attended the European Advisory Board meeting of Princeton University Press, the theme of the discussion being the role of university presses in the globalized 21st century. A while ago Sam Leith had an interesting article in the Guardian praising university presses for their stewardship of non-fiction publishing at a time when many commercial publishers have become fearful ‘me-too’ merchants. It could seem paradoxical: the university presses’ freedom from short term commercial pressure has created the conditions for longer term success, at least for some. Happily, Princeton University Press is one of those that’s thriving. There is a huge appetite for ideas, and the scholarly presses publishing books that address a wider audience than only academics and their libraries have been there to meet it. The appetite is also global, and again a small group of university presses have addressed the global market (much of PUP’s recent growth has been outside its home market in the US).

The other question is what will the ‘university’ part of ‘global university press’ look like in a decade or two? Higher education is ripe for disruption. It seems clear now this will not take the form of MOOCs, although they will have their market. Yet who knows what shape exactly it will take. One of my advisory board colleagues suggested publishing could be able to provide the true interdisciplinarity modern global issues require, whereas traditional university departmental silos discourage it. My hunch is that keeping a clear focus on the ‘product’ being the provision of ideas and scholarship to readers of all kinds around the world, and being agnostic about the exact means of delivering those ideas, will be the way to ride out disruptive technologies. A ‘freemium’ approach looks a good bet too: for example, the open access Digital Einstein website alongside the Quotable Einstein along with many other of his books for sale. (I note by the way there’s a holiday discount at the moment on purchases via the PUP website!)

My latest three books have been published by Princeton, and I’m delighted to be associated with such a distinguished purveyor of ideas to the world.

Thanks, Diane! Suffice to say, we’re delighted too. Read more on The Enlightened Economist.


Diane Coyle is the author of a number of books, including GDP: A Brief but Affectionate History, The Economics of Enough and The Soulful Science: What Economists Really Do and Why It Matters (both Princeton). She holds a PhD in economics from Harvard and is a visiting research fellow at the University of Oxford’s Smith School of Enterprise and the Environment.


Andrew Robinson to talk on “Einstein in Oxford” at Christ Church

In late 1915, in Berlin, Albert Einstein announced the general theory of relativity: his greatest achievement. In 1931-33, he lectured on relativity in Oxford, receiving an honorary degree from the university and staying in rooms in Christ Church, before fleeing his home in Nazi Germany and settling in Princeton. How much is known about Einstein’s time in the city of dreaming spires? For the centenary of general relativity, Einstein biographer Andrew Robinson will give a talk on “Einstein in Oxford” at Christ Church, Oxford on December 3. Robinson, the author of Einstein: A Hundred Years of Relativity, will reflect on relativity, Einstein’s intriguing relationship with Oxford and the puzzle of his universal fame. 

Ahead of his talk, Robinson shares some fascinating details about the historic visit:

Einstein in Oxford

By Andrew Robinson

My father was a physicist at Oxford’s Clarendon Laboratory for more than four decades, revered Einstein’s work and wrote a textbook on relativity. I was born, brought up and largely educated in Oxford. So I am naturally curious about Einstein’s relationship with the city.

When Einstein paid his first visit to England in 1921, The Times carried a two-sentence news item headlined “Professor Einstein at Oxford”. It read as follows: “Professor Einstein paid a private visit to Oxford University as the guest of Dr. Lindemann of Wadham College. A tour was made of the principal University buildings and the Professor returned to London in the evening.”

Einstein receiving an honorary degree at Oxford. Source:

Nothing further came of this Oxford visit for a decade. But the name of Einstein’s host in Oxford in 1921, the physicist Frederick Lindemann, proved to be very important. Though born in Germany in 1886, Lindemann was actually brought up in Britain and regarded himself as British. But he returned to Germany as a PhD student in Berlin. In 1911, when his Berlin supervisor, the future Nobel laureate Walther Nernst, organized a key scientific conference in Brussels—the first Solvay Congress—Nernst appointed his student Lindemann as one of the scientific secretaries of the conference. And it was at this historic conference—where the young Einstein lectured on quantum theory—that Lindemann first met him.

In 1919, Lindemann was elected Dr Lee’s professor of experimental philosophy (that is, physics) in Oxford, and began the much-needed rejuvenation of physics at the university, centred on the Clarendon Laboratory. The Dr Lee’s chair was attached to Wadham College, where Lindemann remained a fellow until his retirement. But in 1921 Lindemann was also elected, as was legally possible in those days, to a “studentship not on the governing body” at Christ Church, which had provided the endowment for the chair. This entitled Lindemann to rooms in Christ Church that were more spacious than Wadham could provide, and from 1922 for the rest of his life, until his death in 1957, ‘Prof’, as Lindemann was known, lived in Christ Church. He was living there when he became close to Winston Churchill in the mid-1920s and eventually acted as Churchill’s key scientific adviser during the Second World War.

In 1927, Lindemann made his first attempt to persuade Einstein to return to Oxford and give one or two lectures, on behalf of the newly established Rhodes Trust—without success. In 1930, he tried again. This time, Einstein agreed, then changed his mind. But Lindemann was determined. He saw Einstein in person in Berlin, and also worked on Mrs Einstein. Einstein agreed to give three lectures—one on relativity, the second on cosmological theory and the third on his much-discussed unified field theory—and to stay in Oxford for some weeks. A solicitous Lindemann assured Mrs. Einstein in a letter:

He can of course have as many meals as he likes alone in his rooms and I will endeavour to preserve him as much as possible from importunate invitations. I am taking steps to see that he can get some sailing, so that I hope he will not feel that he is wasting his time here altogether.

Einstein arrived in Oxford in early May 1931 and was given rooms in Christ Church on Tom Quad (now the Graduate Common Room) belonging to the classical scholar Robert Hamilton Dundas, who was away on a world tour in 1930-31. At a practical level, he was looked after by Lindemann’s indefatigable manservant and general factotum, James Harvey. Lindemann himself acted as Einstein’s mentor and guide, showing him the sights and introducing him to various friends and acquaintances. According to Lindemann, over the course of Einstein’s visit, he “threw himself into all the activities of Oxford science, attended the Colloquiums and meetings for discussion and proved so stimulating and thought-provoking that I am sure his visit will leave a permanent mark on the progress of our subject.”

His first Rhodes lecture was on 9 May. Entitled “The Theory of Relativity”, it drew a packed house in the Milner Hall of Rhodes House, with some people standing. But since the lecture included much mathematics and was also in German, it quickly went over the heads of most of the audience. Those whose maths was good enough to follow Einstein’s calculations, mostly lacked sufficient German to follow his words, while the German speakers certainly lacked sufficient maths.

By the time of the second lecture a week later, devoted to the recent notion of an expanding universe, there were somewhat fewer listeners. As The Times correspondent cautiously noted:

Once more he had an audience which, though not so large as for his first lecture, almost filled the hall. An analysis of the audience was interesting. Senior and junior members of the University were divided by a barrier. The senior members consisted chiefly of teachers in the faculties of Literae Humaniores, mathematics, natural science, and theology, all of whom are affected in some degree by the new theory. The junior members were drawn by considerations partly of science, partly of language, and partly of curiosity. The element of curiosity, however, was not so strong as for the previous lecture, and most of those present had a serious interest.… Two blackboards, plentifully sprinkled beforehand in the international language of mathematical symbol, served him for reference.

One of these Einstein blackboards was wiped by an over-zealous cleaner. Fortunately, the other one was rescued by one of the Oxford dons with a serious interest in relativity, who whisked it away to the Museum of the History of Science in Broad Street, where it today attracts much intrigued, if bemused, attention from visitors. (The wiped blackboard still exists, too, but lies ignominiously in the storeroom of the Museum.)

Just before the third lecture on 23 May, Einstein was awarded an honorary doctorate by the University at the Sheldonian Theatre. The Public Orator, presenting Einstein to the vice-chancellor in Latin, claimed that relativity, “which touched both science and philosophy, was specially acceptable to Oxonians … who had learnt from Heraclitus that you could not bathe in the same river twice”.

Then the audience in the Sheldonian—or at least those members strong enough to cope not only with Latin but also with Einstein’s German and his mathematics—proceeded to Rhodes House. After this lecture, Einstein remarked that the next time he had to lecture in Oxford, “the discourse should be in English delivered”. To which one of Lindemann’s friends was heard to murmur in German: “Bewahr!” But two years later, when Einstein gave the Herbert Spencer lecture in Oxford in 1933, “On the Method of Theoretical Physics”, he wisely spoke it in an excellent English version translated from his German by colleagues from Christ Church. This lecture included a piercing tribute to an Einstein hero, Galileo:

Conclusions obtained by purely rational processes are, so far as Reality is concerned, entirely empty. It was because he recognized this, and especially because he impressed it upon the scientific world, that Galileo became the father of modern physics and in fact of the whole of modern natural science.

However, Einstein also stated, controversially, his growing view—which would come to dominate his work in the United States—of the importance of mathematics over experiment in devising physical theories:

It is my conviction that purely mathematical construction enables us to discover the concepts and the laws connecting them which give us the key to the understanding of the phenomena of Nature. Experience can of course guide us in our choice of serviceable mathematical concepts; it cannot possibly be the source from which they are derived; experience of course remains the sole criterion of the serviceability of a mathematical construction for physics, but the truly creative principle resides in mathematics. In a certain sense, therefore, I hold it to be true that pure thought is competent to comprehend the real, as the ancients dreamed.

Undoubtedly, Einstein left a pleasant impression on the students (fellows) of Christ Church. The classicist Dundas—in whose rooms Einstein lived in 1931—was tickled to find a poem by Einstein written in German in his visitor’s book when he returned from his world tour, including the verse:

Grumble: Why’s this creature staying

With his pipe and piano playing?

Why should this barbarian roam?

Could he not have stopped at home?

While the economist Roy Harrod wrote in his biography of Lindemann that Einstein “was a charming person, and we entered into relations of easy intimacy with him.” Harrod recalled vividly that Einstein

divided his time between his mathematics and playing the violin; as one crossed the quad, one was privileged to hear the strains coming from his rooms. In our Governing Body I sat next to him; we had a green baize table-cloth; under cover of this he held a wad of paper on his knee, and I observed that all through our meetings his pencil was in incessant progress, covering sheet after sheet with equations.

On one occasion, Einstein turned up at the college’s entrance gate in a pony cart driven by a girl he had met over lunch at the house of some friends of Lindemann. Some of his admirers were waiting to help him out of the cart, but a big button from his Ulster had caught in the cart’s basket-work. His lady driver wanted to disentangle it and give it to Einstein, but the college porter said: ‘I wouldn’t worry, Miss. The gentleman will never miss it. He has one odd button on his coat already.” “Oh, in that case I shall keep it,” said the girl. “I shall probably never drive anyone so famous again!”

Robinson jacketAndrew Robinson will give a talk on “Einstein in Oxford” at Christ Church, Oxford on 3 December 2015. He is the author of Einstein: A Hundred Years of Relativity, published by Princeton University Press in 2015, and Genius: A Very Short Introduction, published by Oxford University Press in 2011.