Category Archives: Books

Book Review: Frederick Lewis Allen – Only Yesterday: An Informal History of the 1920s

Frederick Lewis Allen – Only Yesterday: An Informal History of the 1920s (New York: HarperPerennial Modern Classics, 2015 [1931]).

A history of the 1920s, but written in 1931, when the memories were still fresh. The title is almost literal. I read part of it in undergrad and revisited it recently. Many historians would write this type of near-real time history by simply discussing the major news stories of the day in order. Allen goes for a more thematic approach. A typical chapter covers the entire decade from beginning to end, but covering a different theme. Topics include sex and morality, fashion, Prohibition, business and the economy, technology, leisure, sports, politics, and more. But Allen also sees larger overarching themes that tie all these mini-themes together—and this is what makes his book so compelling.

The 1920s saw shared mass culture arise in a way that hadn’t been seen before. It would be a while before there was a television in every room. But every town had a movie theater, and the radio was mass-adopted more quickly than perhaps any other technology. Radio, along with maturing telephone and telegraph networks, enabled instant mass communication. Mass-produced automobiles meant that people lived their lives in a much broader area than before. For the first time, people could live in one city and work in another. Daytrips or weekend trips to other states became commonplace.

This led to an explosion of shared culture. The 1920s were filled with fads, sensations, and cultural icons—flappers, Babe Ruth and his home runs, title fights like Dempsey-Tunney, Mahjong, crossword puzzles, Charlie Chaplin, Charles Lindbergh and other aviators, and more. Nothing like this had ever happened before, at least on such a scale.

Allen also notes the very different starting and ending points of the 1920s. It began just after the end of World War I, and ended with the onset of the Great Depression. These natural bookends are grist for occasional meditations for an almost life-cycle view of the decade. A young nation began the decade eager and optimistic to rebuild and make something new after the war was won. This exuberance gave way to an industrious middle age filled with work and reward. Finally, a jaded old age kicks in as youthful excesses brought economic ruin. I share the historian William McNeill’s skepticism of these types of stories. Nations and cultures are never young or old, individuals are.

A lot of Only Yesterday is surprisingly contemporary. Maybe not so much the bits about the annual rises and falls of women’s hemlines, where an inch’s change towards or a way from the knee was a major national event. But Allen’s description of how people reacted to the rise of mass media sounds an awful like how people are reacting today to the Internet, smartphones, and social media. People had all kinds of overblown reactions to it, both in favor and against it. And the technologies drove all kinds of fads. Back then, it was Mahjong. Today, it’s Candy Crush. People were able to pay much closer attention to national events than before.

There was a lot of handwringing about the changes in the news and media industries, and the effect this saturation would have on people’s health and happiness, and on America’s political system. Despite all the melodrama, people got through it—just as our generation will. Today’s generation is hardly the first one that needs to calm down about the media industry.

This is one of those books that is surprisingly hard to put down. Allen’s biggest shortcoming is a common cultural failure—an unthinking condescension towards business and commerce. Like a lot of people, he took Sinclair Lewis’ novel Babbitt a little too seriously. And he frequently—almost reflexively, without really thinking about it—makes cutting remarks at businessmen, peoples’ work lives, or almost anything having to do with finance. The unspoken implication is that the author is above such earthly concerns, and his readers should be as well. This tendency is off-putting, and distracts from an otherwise superb volume of history.

Book Review: C.S. Lewis – The Screwtape Letters

C.S. Lewis – The Screwtape Letters (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1942).

I have almost no interest in theology, and actively dislike proselytizing. Yet, I enjoyed The Screwtape Letters. The book consists of 31 letters written by Screwtape, a senior demon, to his bumbling nephew Wormwood, who is having trouble tempting his “Patient” to sin and damnation. Lewis has a sly, avuncular humor throughout that makes his unsubtle didactic aims go down easier. And Screwtape is endlessly quotable. Lewis was a talented writer, and there is a reason people still read him.

That said, Lewis’ post-Victorian-Christian hangups about sex are as amusing as they are unhealthy. Most societies today, and throughout history, have less repressed norms that better fit human biology, and normal human behavior.

Less amusing is Lewis’ apparent belief that people cannot be morally good without religious belief. His frequent criticisms of materalism as immoral make no logical sense. Here, Lewis means “materialism” not in the sense of greed, but rather in the metaphysical sense of rejecting the existence of non-physical spirits.

The trouble with this argument is, well, almost everywhere. High-character people who are not religious are easy to find. In Lewis’ argument, X has no link to Y. And Lewis does not attempt to find one, arguing only by assertion. His broad-brush dismissal of millions of good people is arguably its own moral failing.

Much of Lewis’ other advice is on firmer ground. One need not share his theism to agree that the world would be a kinder place if people were a bit better at resisting temptation.

Book Review: David Christian – Origin Story: A Big History of Everything

David Christian – Origin Story: A Big History of Everything (New York: Little, Brown Spark, 2018).

A breezy, big-picture history of the universe in the tradition of Bill Bryson. On the plus side, Christian’s approach is less sensationalistic than Bryson’s. On the downside, that means it is a little less entertaining as well. But that’s only in relative terms. In absolute terms, this book is highly enjoyable, and I liked it better than Bryson’s. The early chapters, from the Big Bang on up to the early solar system, are strong on cosmology. From there, the emphasis changes to geology, cellular biology, anthropology, and then a little bit of economics and sociology and a guess at where technology is headed. Maybe not a book for specialists, but they would gain perspective from engaging outside their specialty—which is good all-around life advice as well.

Book Review: Frans de Waal – Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are?

Frans de Waal – Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are? (New York: W.W. Norton, 2017).

The short answer to the title’s question is kind of, but not really. We can never truly get into even another human being’s head. It is impossible to tell is someone else sees the color red the same way you do, or feels hot and cold the same way. It is also clearly impossible to do this across species, which have different sensory thresholds–and in some cases, different senses–than we do.

But de Waal’s core argument is more about empathy and decency. You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. By building up a persuasive case that animals have complex intellectual and emotional lives, de Waal gives good reasons for treating other species with respect. We are them, and they are us. Or, at least, we’re a lot closer than most people think.

Humans have three types of cone cells in our eyes to perceive colors, hence our three primary colors; birds have four. Mantis shrimp have 17. We will never see the world as they do. Cats and other nocturnal animals have more types of rod cells than humans do. These detect black-and-white and relative brightness, and are useful for low-light conditions. Insects have compound eyes, which are very different from our camera-style eyes. Butterflies can see ultraviolet light, which they use to assess potential mates. The UV-reflective scales on their wings wear away with age, so abundant UV reflections on their wings are indicators of youth and health for them, though humans will never know this.

But these differences are no reason to believe such animals lack intelligence. We do the same things ourselves, just in a different way. All animals live by the same four Fs: fighting, fleeing, feeding, and mating. We have evolved different ways of going about it, but the fundamentals are the same.

De Waal is also concerned with emotions. And yes, animals do feel many of the same emotions humans do. And again, our differences are more of degree than of kind. Animals feel pain, love, loss, hunger, and happiness. Maybe not in exactly the same way we do, but they do feel them.

Elephants and other animals mourn their dead, and even hold funeral services. Blood chemistry tests show that yes, your cat really does love you. Interactions with their owners release the exact same oxytocin “love hormone” that shows up in human blood when we interact with our loved ones.

Chimpanzees and bonobos—de Waal’s research specialty—have complicated social dynamics that require sophisticated emotional intelligence. They have similar notions of family and friendship, and they form complicated three-way alliances and rivalries that are very similar to the ones human nation-states build to maintain a balance of powers within the group–or in our case, global geopolitics. Our cousins, with whom we share a common ancestor as recently as six or seven million years ago, are different than each other, and from us. But the fundamentals are the same, and deserve more respect from humans.

Book Review: Jennifer Ackerman – The Genius of Birds

Jennifer Ackerman – The Genius of Birds (New York: Penguin, 2017).

Her occasional lapses into prophecies of ecological doom take away from the seriousness of her case, but Ackerman has written a fascinating look at avian intelligence. Despite their tiny brain size, many birds are highly intelligent in a wide variety of areas. “Bird brain” should be a compliment, not an insult.

Parrots and songbirds are keen linguists and mimics. Corvids—crows and jays—have a strong social intelligence, long memories, an ability to learn on par with human 5-year-olds in some areas, and show tool use. Some birds are also able to differentiate the works of different artists–even ones within the same style, such as impressionism.

Migratory birds have mastered a variety of methods and senses to find their way. They use a combination of landmarks, the sun and stars, barometric pressure, a built in genetic clock (fly south for a certain amount of days, then stop), listening for the differences in sound reflections between ocean and land, as well as changing odors.

Even hummingbirds, for all their hyperactivity and tiny size, show a keen memory for food sources and plan their routes to save precious energy. Scientists have even observed hummingbirds return to the same feeders each year within a day or two every spring when they return north.

There is also good reason for birds packing as much intelligence into as little brain size as possible–it saves weight. To fly, birds have to be as light as possible. Their bones are hollow. Their lungs can absorb oxygen on both the inhale and exhale, making them nearly twice as efficient as ours, and much lighter. They have light keratin beaks instead of heavy bone jaws. So of course evolution figured out ways to make the best possible use of small and lightweight brains.

Ackerman’s case for bird intelligence would have been further strengthened if she had discussed Gordon Tullock’s famous article “The Coal Tit as a Careful Shopper,” in which Tullock finds that birds have an intuition of the laws of economics.

The coal tit, a small bird in Britain, likes to eat a kind of grub that lives inside pine cones. When food is abundant, the bird will get the easiest grubs, and leave the more difficult-to-reach ones alone. That way it spends less time getting the calories it needs, and can use the freed time for other uses, such as attracting mates and avoiding predators.

When food is scarce, those calories become more valuable in comparison at the margin, and the coal tit changes its behavior to match. It will spend more time on each pine cone, getting even the most difficult-to-reach grubs, because doing so is better than alternative uses of its time and energy. This small creature is able to use economic principles such as the law of demand, marginal thinking, and opportunity costs to improve its odds of survival.

Book Review: Ben Wilson – Metropolis: A History of the City, Humankind’s Greatest Invention

Ben Wilson – Metropolis: A History of the City, Humankind’s Greatest Invention (New York: Doubleday, 2020).

A wide-ranging world history told through the lens of cities. Wilson bounces around between Asia, Europe, and America, and concludes in Lagos, Nigeria, which is well on its way to becoming one of the world’s major urban centers. Wilson feels at home discussing subjects as diverse as the Epic of Gilgamesh and its relationship to Uruk, the first big city; coffeehouse culture in 18th century London, with its undercurrents of political dissent and rebellion against social norms; the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and their fast but difficult recovery; and the birth of skyscrapers in jazz age New York and the dashed grand plans for remaking social orders in glass and steel. For a Brit, he is also surprisingly well-versed in the early history of hip-hop.

Wilson is a cheerful tour guide and has a conversational prose style that reads quickly. Metropolis would go well with any number of books, ranging from James C. Scott’s Against the Grain about the close relationship between early agriculture, the first cities, and the first governments; Monica Smith’s very similar Cities: The First 6,000 Years; and The Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs, the influential urban economist who took on Robert Moses’ machine politics in New York City in the mid-twentieth century.

Book Review: David Eagleman – Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain

David Eagleman – Incognito: The Secret Lives of the Brain (New York: Vintage, 2011)

Interesting and engaging, but second-rate compared to the leading works of the genre. Eagleman describes how the brain’s conscious and unconscious systems interact. The human brain turns out to be a wonderful economist. It is constantly taking in more information than it can process, and has evolved sophisticated, almost automatic algorithms to prioritize its resources to focus on what is important, and ignore what isn’t, to save energy. If it didn’t do this, our energy-hungry brain, which already accounts about a fifth of an average person’s calories burned despite being about 2 percent of body weight, would outpace what the body can provide it.

Along the way he gives the reader a tour of both famous and overlooked research, teaches brain anatomy, and at times turns philosophical. It also briefly name-checks Ryan Braun, one of my favorite baseball players, who won the National League MVP award around the time this book was written. As it turns out, the paths outfielders such as Braun take to catch flyballs are determined mostly unconsciously. Rather than direct routes to where the ball will likely land, even the best players take curving, circuitous routes that nobody would consciously follow. Same goes for hitters. The human eye cannot track a 90-mph fastball. Every swing is a guess, based on an unconscious algorithm. Deliberate thought simply isn’t fast enough.

Eagleman’s main public policy proposal is statistically-based sentencing for criminals, based on the likelihood of a person’s recidivism. This is not that far removed from the movie Minority Report, based on a dystopian Philip K. Dick story featuring a department of pre-crime, which punished people who have not committed crimes, but are about to.

Statistically-based sentencing proposal has two fatal flaws. One is a knowledge problem. Well-meaning experts cannot reliably predict who will re-offend, and who will not. Today’s most advanced experts might as well flip a coin, Eagleman points out. The second is a public choice problem—those experts are not always well-meaning.

Experts are subject to the same cognitive biases, mood swings, personal grudges and corruptibility as everyone else—which Eagleman describes elsewhere throughout the book. And the real-world government that would enact such a proposal would be influenced by electoral politics, by ideological and rent-seeking special interests, and would be bogged down by bureaucratic infighting and turf battles among prestige-seeking experts. Anyone interested in criminal justice reform should take a hard pass on Eagleman’s idea.

But Eagleman does offer up a good read on how the brain’s conscious and unconscious systems interact, and describes a lot of the research in an entertaining way. He does not operate at the same analytical heights as Kahneman and Tversky, Robin Hanson, Steven Pinker, or Michael Shermer. Eagleman’s certainty about philosophical determinism is also questionable, given that he, too, has the human brain’s cognitive shortcomings and shortcuts that he convincingly describes. But even if this book is a B or a B- compared to the top tier, most readers will still get quite a lot out of Incognito.

Book Review: Casey Mulligan – You’re Hired!: Untold Successes and Failures of a Populist President

Casey Mulligan – You’re Hired!: Untold Successes and Failures of a Populist President (Alexandria, VA: Republic Book Publishers, 2020).

Mulligan was the Chief Economist of President Trump’s Council of Economic Advisers. He is much kinder to Trump than most economists are. While Mulligan pulls a lot of his punches and has some of the unconvincing persecution complex that many Republicans have, he offers credible insights into how Trump and his White House worked. Despite its restraint, You’re Hired has lessons for policy advisers of any political persuasion. Personality matters in politics. Advisers who do not account for that will not get sound policies enacted.

While President Trump is not knowledgeable about policy, he is also not as dumb as many of his critics allege. For example, when he would tweet out good economic news, he would often exaggerate it on purpose, knowing that media reports would instantly go about correcting him—and unintentionally spreading good news they might otherwise have ignored.

Mulligan also praises Trump’s tendency during meetings to intuit many mostly correct economic conclusions even when it is clear he is approaching a given issue for the first time. Mulligan is likely either selective or exaggerating, though, considering Trump’s long pre-presidency track record on issues such as trade, immigration, and industrial policy.

On the negative side, Mulligan’s treatment of opiate policy is at best incomplete. This was one of his primary issues during his CEA tenure; for the most part, Mulligan’s book focuses on issues he personally worked on. On one hand, Mulligan is correct that subsidizing opiates has had negative unintended consequences, and he offers sound policy fixes. On the other hand, Mulligan dismisses ending the criminalization of recreational users or prescribing doctors.

Mulligan is also ok with Washington interfering in doctor-patient relationships involving chronic pain patients—one of whom was my late grandfather, who suffered a great deal of unnecessary pain because of federal policies such as Mulligan endorses.

He also does not address the larger criminal justice problems created by federal drug policy. Mulligan is so narrowly focused on price controls, that while his analysis is correct as far as it goes, he dismisses larger—and politically possible—fixes that lie outside of formal price theory.

While Mulligan writes well, his consistent capitalization is “Federal” is an off-putting stylistic decision. Government documents use the same device. Mulligan’s use of the same honorific does not help his desire to appear independent, even though this is an example of style, not substance.

His lengthy tangent on the lack of collusion in President Trump’s Russia scandal feels out of place, both in they way it copies Trump’s terminology, and because Mulligan had nothing to do with the scandal; “collusion” was not a legal term at issue in the case.

You’re Hired is a useful counter to Trump Derangement Syndrome, which can be almost as harmful as Trumpism. But Mulligan is too sanguine about the administration’s illiberalism. The administration’s policy successes on regulation, education, environmental policy, and assorted other issues do not excuse its deficit spending, its expansive view of executive power, its immigration policies, its poor COVID response, its embarrassing personality cult, embrace of fringe figures and conspiracy theories, its ill-timed stress-testing of liberal political institutions, and its divisive impact on American culture. The administration was neither wholly good nor wholly bad. It had elements of both. Neither should be overlooked.

Mulligan offers pointed criticisms and telling stories of trade adviser Peter Navarro, with whom he crossed paths several times. Since Mulligan also writes at length about immigration policy in the book, he should have done the same to immigration adviser Stephen Miller, who pushed the Trump administration’s family separation policies, casually uses slang terms drawn from white nationalism, frequently cites its literature, and has several personal and online connections to that world. History will not look kindly on Miller; neither should Mulligan.

Mulligan is credible, unlike trashy reality-tv personalities who have surrounded Trump, such as Omarosa Manigault and Michael Cohen. He is also not sycophantic like Sen. Lindsey Graham, Rep. Matt Gaetz, or large swathes of conservative media are. He is also a skilled economist and an unusually clear writer for an academic economist. But Mulligan’s omissions and kid-glove treatments give the impression that he’s holding a lot back.

As fear of a Trump tweet-storm recedes, hopefully Mulligan will be more forthcoming in the future. Future administrations’ policy teams would benefit from this, especially if Trump’s personality and populism remain part of the GOP going forward.

See also a CEI book forum featuring Mulligan. Reading this review over, it is a bit harsh for a book I have a positive opinion of. The book forum balances that out a bit while still asking some pointed questions.

Book Review: Muhammad Yunus – Banker To The Poor: Micro-Lending and the Battle Against World Poverty

Muhammad Yunus – Banker To The Poor: Micro-Lending and the Battle Against World Poverty (New York: PublicAffairs, 2007)

Yunus is a Bangladeshi economist who did much to popularize microlending—small loans to budding entrepreneurs in the developing world. He won the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize. This is his autobiography.

While his bottom-up approach to development is a massive improvement from the top-down model favored by economists such as Jeffrey Sachs and organizations like the World Bank, Yunus is not without his critics, and was touched by scandal in recent years. Now 80 years old, he is mostly retired.

Though not entirely objective, this is a good introduction to how a creative, entrepreneurial approach can have a large positive impact on philanthropy and economic development. There are lots of ways to cook an egg. Yunus’ recipe is one of many that are not perfect, but are still part of a healthy diet.

Further reforms must operate not just in finance or in this or that policy area, but also at the institutional level, such as property rights protections, and in culture, such as a general sense that openness, innovation, and commerce are good things, and corruption should be resisted, rather than tolerated.

Book Review: Eamonn Butler – Friedrich Hayek: The Ideas and Influence of the Libertarian Economist

Eamonn Butler –  Friedrich Hayek: The Ideas and Influence of the Libertarian Economist (Hampshire, UK: Harriman House, 2012)

Butler has written accessible intellectual biographies of several major classical liberal thinkers. His entry on Hayek does exactly what it intends to. While it does not offer the same depth as Bruce Caldwell’s lengthy Hayek’s Challenge, that isn’t Butler’s goal. Instead, in about 150 pages, students and lay readers can get high-level yet accessible explanations of spontaneous order, the importance of using bottom-up processes rather than top-down planning, and other key Hayekian concepts, plus a tour of Hayek’s major works.

His native Vienna was at its cultural and intellectual peak during his childhood, and most of his family were natural scientists, as were both of his children. This sparked his interest in evolutionary processes, in which intricate designs require no designer. He fought in World War I, earned two doctorates, was a members of Ludwig von Mises’ famous seminars, then joined the London School of Economics faculty and became a friend and rival to Keynes.

He moved permanently when the Nazis made their intentions clear, and wrote his most famous book, 1944’s The Road to Serfdom, from a barn well outside London, which was still under the Blitz. This period marked the end of Hayek’s technical economics work on business cycles and monetary theory. Hayek instead turned to a multidisciplinary approach that contributed to political philosophy, law, history, and science, as well as economics. Serfdom, one of Hayek’s first works from this new approach, is commonly misunderstood as a slippery-slope argument, in which any move away from liberalism will send a country on a one-way street to totalitarianism.

Hayek instead makes a package-deal argument. A planned economy requires getting rid of liberal institutions such as private property, equality before the law, and all the other common rights. Similarly, a society that respects human rights must also have a free economy. For Hayek, economic freedom and personal freedom are a package deal. These two liberalisms cannot be chosen a la carte; it’s both or neither.

Butler goes over the highlights of Hayek’s major early papers, collected in Individualism and Economic Order, though he gives too little attention to Hayek’s larger “Abuse of Reason” project, which was never completed, but include The Counter-Revolution of Science, and influenced much of his later work. Also under-served here is Hayek’s major psychological work, The Sensory Order. One of Hayek’s main arguments in this book is that a mind cannot fully understand something more complicated than itself. A policy implication is that a central planner can never fully understand how millions of individual minds think, interact, and make their own evolving plans.

Butler also tours the Constitution of Liberty, which is Hayek’s positive vision of what a free society’s institutional and legal structures would look like.

Hayek’s later Law, Legislation, and Liberty trilogy also gets a close inspection, with a chapter on Hayek’s views on social justice—which in this reviewer’s opinion, don’t entirely hold up. More important is Hayek’s distinction between higher principles of natural law, and the flawed man-made legislation that attempts to capture its essence—or, just as often, attempts to overrule it. Butler also goes into the usually-overlooked third volume, in which Hayek take a cue from Plato’s Republic and builds his own utopian institutional system. It’s a bit out there, and one of Hayek’s least essential works.

Hayek’s final book was The Fatal Conceit, which haunts every aspiring planner who thinks he can overcome the knowledge problems that have attempted to impose their own top-down philosophy on a bottom-up world.

Butler concludes with a look at Hayek’s legacy and what the future of liberalism might hold.