Columns
& more
On this page you find a variety of serious and funny columns, interesting correspondence and other information that has in some ways to do with my carreer.
A small selection of other columns
downloads
Is Economics difficult?
The Needham Puzzle
What kind of Science is Economics?
Why invest in poor countries?
China; Internationaal Financier (NL)
A letter from Bill Clinton
During my posting at the Netherlands’ Embassy in Lusaka, Zambia, I befriended a colleague who was working for the Clinton Foundation. She was from Singapore and -needless to say- she was very beautiful. I gave her a copy of Development in Hindsight as a present. ‘Do you think your boss would like a copy as well?’, I asked. ‘Sure’ she said, ‘Bill is a great reader.’ So, I sent a copy to the former president of the United States, under the condition that my Singaporean friend would make sure that I would receive a thank you note from the president himself. And sure enough, I received a small letter, obviously drafted by his secretary, but signed by Bill Clinton.
When I had written Has Africa Shed its 'Third World' Status?, I again sent a copy to President Clinton. As I wanted a personal response, I wrote him that I was presenting a jazz program on Zambia’s Radio Phoenix. Knowing that Clinton played tenor saxophone, I asked him who his favourite jazz saxophone players were. To my delight he answered my question as you can read in the letter he sent me.
Economics and old age
The other day I read an article about ikigai; which means ‘joy in life’. You find ikigai on the island of Okinawa, Japan, populated by a lot of people who each are more than 100 years old. The question is why do these people grow so old; what is their secret? It is to wake up every day with a clear objective in mind, and stay active even after retirement! But this isn’t all. They also eat healthy food, engage in their hobbies, and greet their fellow citizens every day. But is this really their secret; doesn’t this long-life recipe apply to all of us? A skeptic scholar about Japan quipped that the people of Okinawa grow so old because they want to see the American naval base there leave while they are still alive!
I believe that I have a more convincing explanation why people grow very old, and that is economics! Take Central Bank Governor Zhou Xiaochuan. He is 70 years old and still going strong! Should he retire one of these days he surely will not give up his interest in monetary economics, nor his hobby: music! Another shining example is Indian Economics Nobel Laureate Amartya Sen who will turn 85 years this November – also he is still going strong.
In my book From Keynes to Piketty I present twelve famous economists of whom John Cassidy and Thomas Piketty are still alive. Of the remaining ten economists, seven of them died well into their nineties. This is by any means a remarkable achievement begging an explanation.
Let me state from the outset that all of them worked very hard during their entire life. These economists wrote many learned books and hundreds of scientific articles. In addition, they had the habit of not agreeing to anyone else’s opinion; so a lot of their energy went into contradicting and outwitting their opponent. For example, Milton Friedman, the monetarist and free market champion, who died at the age of 94, attacked institutional economist John Kenneth Galbraith, who died when he was 98, for not being scientific. Yet, Friedman maintained that they were good friends; a statement which –understandably- was not confirmed by Galbraith. Another example is the disagreement between Friedrich Hayek and John Maynard Keynes. Hayek, a strong believer in the workings of the price system, who died when he was 93, wrote a scathing review of one of Keynes’s works. It was so vitriolic that Hayek’s publisher advised him not to review Keynes’s General Theory, his mater piece, which ushered in the Keynesian Revolution in economics. Hayek took the advice and befriended Keynes, inspired by their mutual interest in old books. I must admit that Keynes is one of the very few economists who died rather early at 63. This sad fact would undermine my statement that being an economist ensures a long life. However, Keynes’s early death is more than compensated by the very long life led by Paul Samuelson, the founder of modern economics, who died at the advanced age of 94, and by the first-ever Economics Nobel Laureate Jan Tinbergen, who developed econometrics. He died at 91!
The ikigai philosophy, of carrying on beyond retirement, certainly applies to the economists I wrote about in my book. All of them kept on writing and lecturing after their retirement. Take Douglass North, who died at the age of 95. He continued writing books and articles well into his eighties about the important role played by institutions in economic development. And Friedrich Hayek published his last book when he was 89 years old!
Apart from continuing to publish articles and books, they devoted time to their hobbies. A few examples: Ken Galbraith took an interest in 16th to 18th century Indian painting, apart from writing novels. Milton Friedman was an amateur graphologist. Douglass North was an accomplished photographer. And Albert Hirschman, inventor of the Hiding Hand, who died when he was 97, loved French literature. I would not be surprised if Central bank Governor Zhou, once retired, would be writing another book about music, after the one on musicals which he published in the 1990s.
So if you want to lead a long and fulfilled life: become an economist and cherish your hobbies.
Peter de Haan
My cup of tea*
The other day I asked my son-in-law whether he wanted to have a nice cup of coffee. ‘No, thank you’, he said, ‘I’d prefer a cup of tea’. He is a Yorkshire man, so I should have realized that Brits drink tea, not coffee. I asked him why the British drink so much tea, as they don’t even grow it. He said that I was wrong, as there is now even a Yorkshire tea variety! I had always thought that tea was only grown in India, Sri Lanka, China, Kenya, and the like. I started preparing a pot of tea for him. My daughter then told me to put three tea bags in the pot, rather than one which I usually do. She, unnecessarily, added that her husband liked strong tea!
Her remark reminded me of the points to make a nice cup of tea made by no less than George Orwell. I present Orwell’s eleven points, since one seldom finds a recipe for tea making in cookbooks. Orwell was surprised about this omission because -after all- tea is one of the mainstays of British civilization. He presents eleven ‘outstanding points’. He reckons that two of them would be generally agreed, but that at least four points might be controversial, although he didn’t say which ones. Here we go.
First, one should use Indian or Sri Lankan tea. True, Chinese tea has its virtues; one can drink it without milk but there isn’t much stimulation in it. Orwell even goes so far as saying that one doesn’t feel wiser, braver, or more optimistic after drinking Chinese tea. My advice is not to touch this subject in the company of Chinese citizens.
Tea should be made in small quantities. To be precise, it should be made in a teapot and not in large barrels. Needless to say, the teapot should be made of china. This point reminds me of my mother, who used a double-walled enamel pot. I told her a million times that tea should be made in china pots; to no avail. She was convinced that the water should be poured immediately after it had been boiling for two solid minutes. In this sense, she wasn’t too far from applying the right method, as one of Orwell’s points is that the water should be boiling at the moment of pouring it.
Then, tea should be strong. Orwell underscores that one strong cup of tea is better than twenty weak ones. The older one grows, the stronger the tea has to be! Orwell noted that this point was recognized by the British government in the extra ration issued to old-age pensioners! I believe that on this point Orwell was overdoing it a bit. I once ordered tea in an Irish tearoom. When I poured it, it looked so black that I thought it was coffee. So I called the waiter and I said, while pointing at my full cup, that I had ordered tea instead of coffee. The waiter looked at me as if I wasn’t quite OK in the head. He just said that I should add milk, as that was how the Irish drank their tea!
This brings me to Orwell’s point concerning milk. He said that one should scoop the cream off the milk before using it for tea, as milk that is too creamy always gives tea a sickly taste. When in Bangladesh, I visited a rather filthy tea-stall and ordered a cup of tea. The tea wasn’t served separate from the milk (like in Ireland); no, the milk had already been put into the tea. Unfortunately, milk skins were floating on top, which made me feel like vomiting! Orwell is vehemently against the school of thought that professes that milk should be put first before the tea is added. He is of the opposite opinion: first tea in the cup and only then the milk. As one pours it one can exactly administer the right amount of milk.
After making the tea, one should stir it. Even better, give the teapot a good shake to allow the tea leaves to float about as much as possible. Talking about tea leaves, Orwell says not to use tea bags or other devices: the tea should not be ‘imprisoned’. The leaves should be allowed to float freely in boiling water. At the time, it was believed that tea leaves were harmful. Orwell, however, stated that one could swallow tea-leaves in considerable quantities without ill effect. I’m afraid that the contemporary tea drinker isn’t fond of swallowing tea leaves; that is why tea bags were introduced in the first place.
Finally, a controversial point: tea should be drunk without sugar. Tea, just as beer, is meant to be bitter. If one puts sugar in the tea, the typical tea taste is gone. I must confess that I used to put two spoons of sugar in my tea, until my daughter told me to stop using sugar as it was bad for one’s health. I tried to drink tea without sugar and I must admit: on this point Orwell is right; tea should be drunk without sugar My daughter may also be right, but at the moment it’s hard to say whether or not I’ll live longer. I keep you posted.
Peter de Haan
* This column is on display at tea shop Betjeman and Barton at Denneweg, The Hague.