One of the most selfish pleasures I’ve taken away from my time in George Mason University’s economics department is witnessing the accomplishments of the people I got to know there. Reading a former professor’s book, seeing a fellow grad student’s paper in a journal, or reading their op-eds and blog posts brings me endless delight.
That pleasure will be denied me with Doug Rogers. He was one of the best friends I made during that time. He passed away on January 30 in a car accident. He was 26. Right in the prime of life.
What a shame then, that the world will be denied his achievements. He was well on his way to becoming a fine economist. Scratch that. He already was a fine economist. For a quick example of the clarity and principle of his thought, see this article on the economics of prohibition that he authored for a recent issue of The Freeman, published by the Foundation for Economic Education.
We met in Peter Leeson’s class in development economics. For the uninitiated, development economics attempts to answer why some countries are rich while others are poor, and how poor countries can become rich. In short, one of this century’s defining issues. Class discussion often grew heated as a result. Doug was the class’ voice of reason.
There were radical free-market types in the room, and their opposites. Doug made no bones about siding with the former. But he never lost sight of the fact that both sides agree on ends, even when they disagree on means. The world would be a better place if more people shared Doug’s simple insight.
He also noticed that I would often wear a Green Bay Packers hat to class. After class one day, he asked if I played football. It turned out that Doug and some other grad students got together on weekends to play touch football. I grew up playing baseball, and had hardly touched a football in my life. But softball season was over by this time of year, and football seemed a more appealing way to get some exercise than the tedium of a gym. So I lied and said yes.
Lies rarely turn out well. This one did. I still come out most weeks, despite having graduated almost two years ago. The games themselves are fun enough. But the real treat is that I got to know a whole cast of characters who I am proud to call my friends.
Doug was definitely the leader of the gang. More often than not, he would send out the weekly emails to gauge attendance. He would get things started once we reached a quorum. He would call the plays in the huddle. Good ones, too. If you were playing receiver, you wanted Doug to be your quarterback. If you were defending against him, Doug was the last guy you wanted to cover.
When everyone’s endurance was flagging, Doug would promise to buy everyone burgers from Five Guys if we’d just play one more game. First team to score three touchdowns wins. It’ll be quick. So of course, we’d play. And everyone’s sides would be heaving with exhaustion by the time that third touchdown finally came. Then he’d flash a smile and say he was just kidding about the burgers. This was a regular enough occurrence that the group came up with a word for it: getting Dougled.
Then January 30, 2011 happened. No more reading Doug’s articles. More importantly, no more getting Dougled. I suspect our weekend football group will continue. If it doesn’t, so it goes. But if it does, it won’t ever be the same. The world of ideas will continue on as it ever did. But for the next half century or more, it will be missing an important voice. My life is far from the only one that will be left poorer by Doug’s death.
I don’t have any religious beliefs. But when I get to know a good person, I do have the habit of describing them as a good soul. Doug was a good soul. I will miss seeing what he would have accomplished had he lived longer. But more than that, I will miss him just being around. Here’s to you, friend. You’ll be missed. In fact, you already are.
