Ernesto Screpanti & Stefano
Zamagni
An
outline of the history of economic thought
Introduction
Oxford
University Press, 2nd Edition, 2005, 163-173
Index
One of the most interesting and controversial of the arguments put
forward by Schumpeter in The History of Economic Analysis is that the
evolution of economic ideas does not proceed smoothly, but in jumps, through a
succession of epochs of revolution and consolidation; of language confusion and
‘classical’ periods. This is also a
useful idea for the historian of economic thought because, if true, it would
provide a clear organizational framework for the subject. In fact, this idea immediately leads to an
almost natural division of the history of economic thought into epochs, a
division based on a succession of ‘classical situations’ and revolutionary
periods. Here, while agreeing with
Schumpeter that any periodization, ‘though certainly
based upon provable facts’, must not ‘be taken too seriously’ (p. 52), we
will attempt one inspired by his idea.
Modern economic science originates from a first great theoretical
revolution that occurred, roughly, in the period, 1750-80. This was an epoch of great breaks with
tradition; an epoch that began with Galiani, Beccaria, and Hume, continued through Genovesi,
Verri, Ortes, Steuart, Anderson, Condillac, Mirabeau, Quesnay, Turgot, and the whole physiocratic
movement; and reached its climax with The Wealth of Nations. There was a chaotic flow of audacious and
brilliant ideas which, even allowing for the diversity of, and conflicts among,
the various approaches, was driven forward by a few fundamental themes. Common to many of these authors was the revolt
against mercantilism, the perception or the foreboding that there was to be a
deep revolution in the economic structure of society, the faith in natural laws
and in the possibility of understanding them scientifically, and, above all,
the belief in free trade, which, even if it was only professed by some of the
above-mentioned economists, was soon to become the basic ideology of the new
science. The Wealth of Nations was
the supreme synthesis of all this work. For
twenty years after its appearance, as Schumpeter suggests, ‘there is little to
report as far as analytical work is concerned’ (p. 379).
In fact, the recovery from theoretical stagnation occurred with the
‘new economics’, immediately after the Napoleonic wars, and was started by
Ricardo. He, far from being a servile
follower of Smith, set to work on the arguments which differentiated his
opinions from those of the great authorities - the greatest of which was The
Wealth of Nations. Ricardo was the
first of a long series of great innovators, among the most important of whom were Sismondi, Malthus, Torrens, Bailey, Hodgskin,
Thünen, Longfield, Rae,
Senior, Cournot, Dupuit,
List, Rodbertus, Jones, and Roscher.
1
The period from 1815 to 1845 was one of the richest in the
history of economic thought as well as that of socialist thought. (Owen,
Saint-Simon, Fourier, Cabet, Blanqui,
Rodbertus, and Proudhon all
worked in this period.) It was a period
of crisis, as shown by the heterogeneous nature of the theories which fought
for positions in the field: Ricardian, Ricardian socialists, Continental socialists, the old
German Historical School, and the ‘anti-Ricardian
reaction’. The last was the most
heterogeneous of all, and only later was it acknowledged as the precursor of
the marginalist revolution. Despite, or perhaps because of, the diverse
and contrasting flows of ideas, the doctrinal counter-positions, and the
Babel’s tower of terminologies and concepts, this period produced a supreme
wealth of seeds, some of which were soon to bear fruit, others much later.
It was J. S. Mill who restored economics as a normal science made up of
established and lasting truths, and with him the epoch closed. It was followed by a new period of stagnation,
if not decadence: the age of Fawcett and Cairnes in
England and Bastiat in France, while in Germany the
innovative spur faded away with the affirmation of the historical school. After Bastiat, Reybaud could state that work in political economy had
almost been exhausted and that there was nothing else to discover. Cairnes, too,
believed that the work of political economy was ‘pretty well fulfilled’. It was 1870! But still in 1876, as Schumpeter reminds us,
there was a feeling that ‘though much remained for economists to do in the way
of development and application of existing doctrine, the great work had been
done’ (p. 830).
Yet it was just at that time that a new revolution was breaking
through. The marginalist
revolution occurred between 1870 and 1890: it was opened by Menger,
Jevons, and Walras, was
continued by Edgeworth, Wieser,
Böhm-Bawerk, Pantaleoni,
and Clark, and closed by Fisher and Marshall. Also in this period, due to its revolutionary
and transitional nature, there was no predominant orthodoxy; in fact, the epoch
was characterized by conflict among a remarkable number of contrasting
theoretical positions. First of all,
there was a revival of socialist theories in the most diverse forms, from the
Marxist school to the Fabians and from Christian to agrarian socialism. Institutionalism and the Young Historical
School (not only German) also began during this period and were to develop more
fully later. Finally, it is important to
note that there were major differences in approach, among the marginalist writers themselves, which caused bitter
controversies. These were so widespread
that still today it is difficult to recognize a homogeneous school of thought
in the early marginalist approaches. Their way of seeing the world, in any case,
seemed new and unfamiliar to many theorists, and this
caused a great deal of resistance. It
was only in the 1890s that a new ‘classical situation’ was established, and a
new feeling of repose spread among the economists. In fact, it was only towards the end of the
century that the fundamental homogeneity of the various versions of marginalist theory was perceived by the historians of
economic thought.
2
The great neoclassical economists of the third generation, Cassel, Pareto, and Wicksell,
were lucky enough to work within what had almost become a new tradition and
orthodoxy, and had no need, therefore, to be revolutionary. The next revolutionary period occurred during
the years of ‘high theory’, in the 1920s and 1930s. It was, as G. L. S. Shackle stated, ‘an
immense creative spasm... yielding six or seven major innovations of theory,
which together have completely altered the orientation and character of
economics’ (The Years of High Theory, p. 5). But perhaps there were more than six or seven:
a great many of the modern theories of growth, cycle, input-output relations,
firm, general equilibrium, money, expectations, employment, distribution,
demand, welfare, planning, and socialism - originate from the seeds sown in
those years.
Coming to the epoch in which we live, there is no doubt that a new
classical situation was created during the 1950s and 1960s. Even though dissent was not completely
silenced, as shown by the post-Keynesian attacks on the neoclassical theory of
distribution and growth and by the clamour of the
debate on capital theory, it is evident that the ‘neoclassical synthesis’ constituted at that time the authentic ‘single
track’ for economic research. Beginning
with the attempt to graft the Keynesian seedling onto the old trunk of marginalist theory, the neoclassical synthesis culminated
in an impressive ordering of ideas and suggestions derived from the years of
the high theory. Then, strengthened by
the formal elegance of the Arrow-Debreu-McKenzie
general-equilibrium model, the theoretical versatility of the Hicks-Modigliani
macroeconomic-equilibrium model, and the analytical simplicity of the Solow-Swan growth-and-distribution model, it was able to
orient economic research and economic policy in a way that no other scientific
orthodoxy had been able to do. Moreover,
the fact that it even managed to transform the critical potential of many
dissident theories into internal debates is a demonstration of its hegemonic
strength.
During the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s the castle of neoclassical orthodoxy
underwent a sort of a breakdown. The
last thirty years have constituted another period of theoretical confusion. A large number of theories have emerged, all,
to differing degrees, imperfect, fascinating, and revolutionary. None is completely satisfactory, none
dominant. From the ‘new classical
macroeconomics’ to the non-Walrasian equilibrium
theory, from post-Keynesian theories to the various neo-institutionalist
approaches, and from the neo-Austrian schools to post- and neo-Marxism (the
last being subdivided into several versions, Sraffian,
anti-Sraffian, regulationist,
neo-Schumpeterian, Keynesian, etc.), competition in modern academic markets in
again strong, incessant, and almost perfect.
Thus, in 250 years of the history of economic thought, from the
middle of the eighteenth century to the present day, there have been four great
cycles of progress followed by periods of stagnation of ideas, four long
revolutionary phases followed by four equally long consolidation phases. We are now right
3
in the middle of the fifth cycle. Each cycle begins with a period of brilliant
ideas, innovations, and breaks with the tradition, controversies, bitter
conflicts, and terminological confusion; in short, a stimulating process of
creative destruction in the production of economic ideas. Old schools disintegrate, dwarfs give way to
giants and, just when one believes that economic science has attained
perfection, chaos breaks out again. Later, out of that hive of activity, the need
for a new synthesis gradually emerges. This is finally reached after two or three
decades, and produces a new classical situation. Then, for another twenty or
thirty years political economy becomes a tranquil profession again:
stable academic circles form, and members of the profession return to concerns
with elegance, generality, and the solution of puzzles. Research follows well-trodden paths and
produces excellent textbooks, refinements, generalizations, and varied
applications.
The subjective nature of the criteria we have adopted to decide what is
to be considered innovative or orthodox is inevitable, as is the ‘qualitative’
nature of the periodization derived from it. We are also aware of the inadequacy of our
appeal to the authority of Schumpeter. On
the other hand, the idea that economic science progresses in jumps rather than
in linear progression should not cause concern; rather, the problem is how to
take account of this phenomenon.
One position is represented by the so-called ‘incrementalist’
approach to the history of economic thought; an approach according to which
‘scientific progress’ has been compared - for example, by Pantaleoni
- to the growth of a snowball which rolls down a mountain slope, gathering
extra snow, with its surface representing the unknown’ (Scritti
varii di economia, p. 4). This point of view implies the possibility,
according to Pantaleoni, of separating economic science
from its metaphysical contour, or rather, according to Schumpeter, separating
analysis from visions. By thus reducing
the history of economic thought to that of analysis (or ‘science’), it is
conceived as the narration of the slow and continual growth in knowledge:
looking backwards through time, and ‘starting from what economic science is in
the present moment’, its history will be a ‘history of the economic truths’
(Pantaleoni, p. 484). In recent times, the most convinced supporters
of this point of view have been neoclassical economists such as Knight,
Stigler, Blaug, and Gordon. But it is not a point of view which originated
within neoclassical theory; Say and Ferrara, for example, had held it before.
Obviously, the supporters of this position do not accept that the
history of economic thought proceeds in jumps and advances by revolutions. Crises, periods of stagnation, and slow-downs
are admitted, but only as perverse effects of the ‘metaphysical foundations’
and the psychological conditions in which the individual authors formulated
their theories, all
4
factors which do not damage the substance of the scientific
element. Thus their history would be a
history of mistakes.
A different point of view, which has been called ‘catastrophist’ or ‘discontinuist’, is linked to Kuhn’s theory of the structure
of scientific revolutions. This
approach, which views the evolution of knowledge as passing through revolutions
and explains the latter as caused by the accumulation of anomalies within the
dominant paradigms, seems extremely useful in tackling the problem we have
raised. However, the application of
Kuhn’s arguments to the history of economic thought has encountered serious difficulties,
difficulties which can be linked both to the ambiguities of the Kuhnian definition of a ‘paradigm’ and to its origin in the
history of the natural sciences. So much so that the characteristics of a truly Kuhnian
revolution in the history of economic thought have only been identified, and
then not without controversy, in the Keynesian revolution. In fact, this revolution could be interpreted,
not as a theoretical response to the stimulus supplied by the occurrence, in a
historically determined socio-institutional environment, of some new economic
facts (crisis, depression, price rigidity, or mass unemployment), but as the
realization of the importance of some anomalies which had always existed and
yet had always been relegated to the footnotes by the dominant paradigm. But how does this idea fit in with the fact that
the Keynesian revolution was only part of the process of deep upheaval which
engulfed the years of high theory? About
other revolutions, many neoclassical economists deny that it is possible to
find those characteristics in the marginalist
revolution, and refuse even to acknowledge its revolutionary nature, believing
instead that it consisted of the purification, refinement, and generalization
of the truly scientific elements which were already present in classical
economics. Finally, the free-trade and Ricardian revolutions cannot be analysed
according to Kuhn’s schema, as they were linked to a great historical event,
the birth of industrial capitalism, and not determined by a logic which was
strictly internal to the evolution of a paradigm.
Recently, there have also been attempts to apply Lakatos’s
‘methodology of the scientific research programmes’
to the history of economic thought. The
best-known examples are those by Weintraub and Latsis. According to
this approach, a research programme will be successful
if it shows itself to be progressive, both theoretically (being able to
predict new facts) and empirically (if such predictions are confirmed). It will be abandoned when it becomes degenerating
(needing to be modified in order to account for known facts without being
able to predict new ones), and if a ‘better’ programme
- i.e. one that is endowed with greater empirical content - is available. The attempts to apply Lakatos’s
approach to economics have produced interesting results with regard to research
methodology, especially in the direction of weakening faith in empiricist and
positivist epistemologies, and of a greater open-mindedness towards
methodological pluralism.
5
However, as far as the history of economic thought is concerned, Lakatos’s approach has not produced decisively important
results and has, on the contrary, represented a step backwards relative to
Kuhn, who at least admitted the importance, if not the centrality, of
scientific revolutions. Lakatos’s approach, instead - especially because of the
emphasis it places on the ‘progressiveness’ of successful research programmes, and on their greater empirical content relative
to those which have been surpassed - seems to be moving towards a resumption of
the ‘incrementalist’ arguments.
Both the incrementalist and catastrophist
approaches are open to criticism at the level of their similar epistemological
roots. They have in common a point of
view which Blaug, in Economic Theory in
Retrospect, has defined as ‘absolutist’ (pp. 20-l) - in the sense that the
historian is only interested in the intellectual development of the theories,
without being concerned with their relationships to the socio-economic
conditions in which they emerged. The
absolutist point of view is clearly present in the incrementalist
approach, for which the evolution of thought is nothing more than a series of
marginal increments of knowledge upon a stock of acquired truth. But this is also true of the catastrophist
approach, in which scientific revolutions are caused by a threshold effect
generated by the accumulation of anomalies within each paradigm. In both cases there is no way of linking
changes in thought to changes in social and economic life.
The approach which studies the history of economic ideas in relation to
socio-economic contexts in which they have arisen has been defined by Blaug as ‘relativist’ (pp. 20-1). With a little more vispolemica,
Pantaleoni called it ‘mesological’
(p. 491). It is a point of view which is
held by a large number of institutionalist,
historicist, and Marxist scholars, and, in general, by historians with
non-positivist backgrounds. Mitchell,
Stark, Roll, Rogin, and Dasgupta,
to name a few, are all authors who have explicitly theorized and knowingly
utilized the mesological approach. The epistemological foundation of this
position is based - according to Roll – ‘on the conviction that the economic
structure of any given epoch and the changes which it undergoes are the major
influences on economic thinking’ (A History of Economic Thought, p. 14).
One of the mesological approaches aims at
identifying the relationships existing between economic theory and the real
socioeconomic structure. And the
simplest type of relationship seems to be that between a historically
determined reality and a specific thought that ‘reflects’ it. Working along this line, Stark has proposed an
interpretation of the Schumpeterian notion of ‘classical situations’ which
leads to a simple and apparently obvious explanation of the phenomenon in
question. When comparing the classical
situations represented by the theories of Smith and Walras,
Stark observed that, while these are two different doctrines, they are still
two theories of equilibrium. He suggests
that they reflect two different economic orders which prevailed in different
historical epochs.
6
Smith’s teachings thus reflected the first real historical situation in
which the capitalist order was in equilibrium conditions, an equilibrium based
on the small, non-mechanized factory and on an exchange economy fully developed
within a national market, in which the invisible hand was able to integrate
agricultural with industrial production. On the other hand, Walras’s
system represented an international economic order in which competition was
almost perfect, both on the commodity and labour markets, at least in the most
developed economies.
Stark says nothing about the other classical situations,
neither does he offer clarification about what is reflected by the theoretical
formulations which occur in periods of intellectual revolution. But his arguments seem perfectly compatible
with the following suggestion by Shackle concerning the state of economic
theory in the 1920s: these years had marked the end of ‘a belief in a
self-regulating, inherently and naturally self-optimizing, stable and coherent
system’ (p. 5). When the
economists realized that they were no longer able, with the old intellectual
instruments, to restore the old order of things, they began to search for new
theories; in this way, by the end of the 1930s economic science ‘had come to
terms with the restless anarchy and disorder of the world of fact’ (p. 6). This point of view has an unpleasant premise:
that social reality is only the object and thought only the subject of
scientific activity, such that the latter does not obey the laws which govern
the former and is able to reflect them objectively. Equally unpleasant consequences would be that
the evolution of economic theory is unequivocally determined by the evolution
of the objective reality; and that, once again, there is (even though through a
series of oscillations) a certain type of progress through the accumulation of
truth.
Another group of mesological approaches
considers the political element as the most important link between theory and
reality. This is the well-known argument
of the ‘political demand’ for economic ideas, according to which the emergence
of specific, real economic problems stimulates the creation of political
solutions and therefore of theories which are capable of scientifically
justifying those solutions. Then, the
theories which supply the correct solutions are grouped together and are slowly
refined until an orthodox theoretical system is formed.
Myrdal developed a similar conception, but
added several interesting observations concerning the role played by the
process of younger generations replacing older ones within scientific
communities. The study of the new facts
which emerge in the course of economic evolution,
would modify political attitudes, especially among young researchers. These, rather than the older upholders of the
orthodoxy, would be able to change the directions of research ‘under the
pressure of what is becoming politically important to the society’ (‘Crises and
Cycles in the Development of Economics’, p. 20). It is in this way that recurrent theoretical
revolutions would be triggered. This
position, even though it has the merit of giving the right weight to
7
the political element, has the defect of reducing the
problem to the single dimension of the adjustment of theories to problems:
there is still the idea that the economist observes reality as in a laboratory
and is not influenced by it.
These difficulties are not encountered by Neumark,
who suggests that there is normally only one choice open to solve the
fundamental economic problems: the choice between two great alternatives; and
that this explains not only the perpetual oscillation of the dominant positions
in economic policy between state control and laissez-faire, protectionism
and free trade, balancing the budget and deficit spending, but also the
oscillation of fundamental theoretical attitudes between preferences for the
conceptions of value as ‘natural’ and ‘just’, between idealistic and
materialist philosophies, and between industrialism and environmentalism.
This outline of the history of economic thought is not intended to be
either a history of illustrious people, their lives, their work, and their
personal contributions to the discovery of the truth, or a history of the
errors by which the growth of scientific knowledge has occurred. We do not share the idea that economics is a
‘Darwinian’ discipline, an idea which claims that the last link in the
evolutionary chain contains all the preceding developments,
and that these can all be dismissed as irrelevant or superseded. Certainly, we do not deny the existence of
some form of evolution in the process of historical change of economic ideas. However, we deny that it is a unidirectional,
homogeneous, and unique development; above all, we deny that the key to
understanding this process must necessarily be provided by the theories which
are in fashion today.
The approach that we follow has a great deal in common with the
relativist position. We wish, however,
to avoid falling into certain ‘mesological’ naivities and simplifications, which often contribute to
the production of histories of economic thought by portraits, or treating the evolution
of ideas as an appendix to the evolution of economic facts. We realize that the reality studied by the
economist is not fixed like that of the natural sciences. Economic facts change through time and space:
problems which appear crucial in a certain period may be irrelevant in another,
and those that are considered important in one country can be completely
ignored in another. This peculiarity of
the subject of investigation may help to explain part of the history of
economic thought, for instance, the existence of certain national peculiarities
or the emergence of specific theories at certain historical moments. But this does not explain everything, and
perhaps it does not explain precisely what really deserves to be studied.
More important than the peculiarities of the object under study are
those of the subject itself. There is no
doubt that the cultural background and the
8
‘visions’ of
the scientists have a strong effect on their research activities; and still
more determinant are the common ideas and values accepted by the scientific
communities, as it is precisely these which select and give direction to the
individuals. But, more generally, there
is no doubt that it is the particular society as a whole which determines the
cultural climate in which the choices available to individual scientists and
the scientific community are provided and delimited. Society as a whole decrees the importance of
the problems to be studied, establishes the directions in which solutions
should be sought, and, ultimately, decides which theories are correct.
None of this would merit our attention if society were a homogeneous
entity. But it is not. In the field of the social sciences, a theory
is a form of self-understanding and self-representation of a social subject. The subjects are heterogeneous, however: there
are differences of class, culture, and nationality. Moreover, the relationships in which these
subjects find themselves may be conflictual. Thus society, while being a severe judge of
scientific work, is not always impartial, nor does it always have clear ideas
about what it wants. And if it is true
that only society decides the relevance of the problems, it is also true that
its decisions are often ambiguous and contradictory .
For example, some people consider an unemployment rate of 5 per cent as
worrying, while others believe a 10 per cent rate is normal, even ‘natural’;
and it is inevitable that these two different ways of thinking are connected to
two contrasting economic theories. Still
more fleeting and biased are the criteria by which society decrees which
theories are correct, because, in the end, as there is ‘only one truth’, the
plurality of points of view, solutions, and directions of research which
society itself generates must in some way be suppressed in favour of a single
theory. Obviously, the work of the
scientists has an important role in establishing which theory should prevail,
as there are requirements of logical coherence, generality, and explanatory
power to which it is their duty to attend. They are not the kings of the castle, however,
and cannot do whatever they wish.
On some subjects and fundamental problems, base orientations are
formed which embody diverse and often contradictory points of view. These orientations give rise to strands of
research which span the history of economic thought. They are like rivers on limestone which
sometimes disappear underground, giving the impression that they have dried up;
but they can continue their underground life for a long time, banned from
academia and deprived of scientific respectability. Then they come to light again, when nobody
expects it, and become more powerful and noisy until they silence their
opponents. For example, consider the
orientation underlying criticism of Say’s Law and its use to demonstrate the
impossibility of ‘general gluts’. Who
would have thought, considering the defeat of Malthus
by Ricardo, or the sad academic destiny of Marx or Hobson, that with Keynes,
justice would have been done? In regard
to this problem, two base orientations have always been in conflict, one
leaning towards self-regulating markets, the other
9
toward effective demand, and neither has ever gained a
complete victory. Another example comes
from the theory of value, where the subjectivist and objectivist orientations
have clashed continuously. It seemed
that Jevons had finally defeated Ricardo, but then, a
century later, Sraffa put everything back into
discussion. We could go on to show the
alternating destinies of the quantitative and endogenous orientations in regard
to the money supply, or of the macroeconomic and microeconomic orientations
concerning the distribution of income, and so on.
Matters are complicated by traditions, that is to say, by
certain types of cultural identification which link economists of different
generations. Traditions may depend on
the existence of certain national cultural backgrounds, on the formation of
academic schools of thought, on the strength of certain political
configurations, or on yet other causes. Thus,
it is possible to speak, for example, of an English tradition in the field of
the construction of comprehensive grand theories, a tradition which links
(despite their different theoretical positions) the magnificent syncretism of
Smith with those of Stuart Mill and Marshall. Or, observing the thin but strong connecting
thread linking Davanzati, Montanan, Galiani, Ferrara, and Pareto, it is possible to speak of an
Italian tradition in relation to the subjectivist theory of value. It is also possible to speak of a socialist
tradition regarding value and distribution, or of a Keynesian tradition
concerning economic dynamics. Traditions
have an important role in guiding the scientific activity of individuals and
research groups. Developments in
traditions intertwine with those of the base orientations, and contribute
significantly to the evolution of economic thought.
In certain historical periods, the orientations underlying some basic
theoretical principles sometimes combine with a certain specific tradition to
contribute to the creation of a theoretical system, a general theory
aspiring to give a coherent and complete answer to every problem that has
arisen or can arise in a defined field of investigation. The first requirement of a theoretical system
is the definition of the scope of investigation. Then, it is necessary to determine the
fundamental principles around which all existing and potential knowledge
can be organized, the methodological rules that establish the way in
which the research is conducted and the results evaluated, and the linguistic
canons which allow the classification, transmission, and communication of
knowledge.
The definition of the scope of investigation is fundamental. It contains, in a nutshell, the whole development
of the system, identifies the problems to be studied, establishes which
economic factors act as parameters and which as variables, chooses the research
directions to be followed and those to be ignored, and, finally, instructs the
scientists as to what they are prohibited from doing. The fundamental principles serve to
hold together the parts of the theoretical system, to create a coherent and
organic core
10
doctrine, and to make it something more than a syncretic sum of diverse theories. The methodological rules instruct the
scientists on how to move across the unknown ground of the problems to solve
and of the still unproven truths. They,
perhaps more than the other dimensions of a theoretical system, and in a way
that often not all the researchers are perfectly aware of, make the scientists’
choices homogeneous and the research results coherent. At the same time, they allow for a division of
labour which may go beyond any possible planned structures of research
activities.
Finally, the recomposition of the results of
such a division of labour is made possible by well-determined linguistic
canons. Perhaps these are the least
explicitly codified characteristics of a theoretical system, but they are not
the least important. Not only do they allow
the communication of knowledge and the education of younger generations of
researchers, which means the creation and reproduction of the scientific
community, but, above all, they delimit the field of discourse. A person who is not well versed in the
linguistic terminology used by the scientific community sharing a particular
theoretical system, that is, a person who is unable to follow its more or less
tacit rules of communication, simply does not have the right to speak,
especially when the system in question is the culturally dominant orthodoxy. The history of economic thought is full of
brilliant but unheeded self-taught men, living in the ‘underworlds’ of heretics
and precursors.
In order to clarify what we mean by a ‘theoretical system’, it
may be useful to give an example. Let us
consider the neoclassical system. This
originated towards the middle of the nineteenth century and, through phases of
crises and successes, and even enduring the pressure and the centripetal forces
of three or four great national traditions, it reached its first signs of
systematic organization towards the end of the century. Finally, and aided by the cosmopolitan push of
the American neoclassical economists, it attained its supreme synthesis towards
the middle of the twentieth century. Some base orientations typical of this system
manifested themselves in a subjectivist theory of value, a microeconomic theory
of distribution, and a static theory of equilibrium. These and other base orientations were
organized around the principle of constrained maximization of individual
objectives; while the scope of investigation was reduced to the problem of the
optimal allocation of scarce resources.
The basic problem for the historian of thought is: how do such systems
form? Linked to this
are other, equally important questions. What determines the success of a system? What causes its break up? Why in certain periods does a ‘dictatorship’
of a certain system arise while in others there seems to be theoretical
anarchy? In the remainder of this book
we have tried, within the limits set by a simple outline of the history of
economic thought,
11
to sketch a reply to these problems. Here, we will briefly
explain some of the interpretative lines on which we have based our attempt.
1. Economic problems are strictly linked, so that a new theory concentrating
on only one problem, or on a limited group of problems, is in a certain sense
unstable. Either it
makes reference to an already existing theoretical system and tries to become
integrated into it and possibly to generalize the system itself, or it
proposes itself as a base for the organization of a new theoretical system. A typical example is given by the Keynesian
revolution, which began by claiming to be a general theory, but was
later generalized by the system it wished to attack. The operation was accomplished by the
elimination of some of the base orientations that were present in Keynes,
orientations that turned out to be incompatible with neoclassical theory. On the other hand, and precisely by virtue of
these orientations, attempts were made to construct, on the basis of the general
theory, a post-Keynesian theoretical system conceived as an alternative to
the neoclassical system.
2. The success of a theoretical system implies the realization of two
conditions, one internal and one external. The former concerns logical coherence, both in
terms of the analytical rigour of the specific
theories of which a system is formed and in terms of the relationships that
link one theory to another. The latter
concerns the ability of the theoretical system to respond to a certain social
need. Society in certain periods of its
evolution needs a general theory to represent it. These are periods in which order and stability
predominate. The theories which are
chosen must, in some way, be theories of order, equilibrium, and harmony. Therefore, not all theoretical systems are
predisposed to prevail, even if they are coherent. Some, even though they are refined, rigorous,
and heuristically powerful, are in any case destined to remain at the margins
of the academic world. There is another
reason why the second condition is more important than the first: it is always
necessary, while the first is not. When
society needs an organic, orthodox, general theory, it finds one. If there are diverse theoretical systems
available that satisfy the same needs, the one which best satisfies the
conditions of internal coherence will presumably win. And when the market does not offer a great
deal, the best that exists is taken, even if the price of syncretism and
analytical weakness has to be paid. This
was the case, for example, with the Bastiat-type
theories of ‘social harmony’ that prevailed in the 1850s and 1860s.
3. When a society enters a period of crisis, the prestige of the
dominant theoretical system will be shaken. In a society facing a serious crisis, the need
to represent the economy as an organic and ordered body is weakened; and this
occurs precisely when real problems emerge for which the general theories of
order are unprepared. In these periods,
the pressure of the scientific community on individual researchers weakens,
while methodological and doctrinal ties on scientific research are loosened. In this way,
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creative energies are liberated. At the same time, the research interests of
the scientists are attracted and shaped more by the problems emerging from the
real world than by those springing from theory. Theoretical revolutions occur in these
periods. They are characterized by
confusion of language; but in such a confusion the
bases are laid down for the construction of new theoretical systems. However, it could also happen that old systems
are revitalised. A theoretical system which enters a period of crisis
does not necessarily leave the scene. The
crisis itself may even contribute to the system’s regeneration, a typical
example being the resurgence of the neoclassical system after the crisis of the
l920s and 1930s.
4. Although the history of economic thought cannot be interpreted
simply in terms of the growth of knowledge, there are, however, certain forms
of progress. One type of evolution is
that which occurs within a particular base orientation. As an orientation refers to a specific
problem, evolution consists in the progressive refinement of the theory
accounting for the phenomenon. In this
way, the objectivist theory of value progressed as it moved from Ricardo to
Marx and thence to Sraffa. On the other hand, two different orientations
focusing on the same problem are not comparable, as they are derived from
different pre-analytical premisses. In regard to the problem of the distribution
of income, for example, there is an orientation, founded on the presupposition
that an economy is a set of exchange relationships among individuals, which
tends to reduce the problem to that of the determination of the prices of the
productive services. There is, however,
another orientation, one based on the premise that the economy is a system of
functional and/or conflictual relations among social
classes, which considers the distributive problem as that of dividing the
national product among the classes. Now,
whether one of these two orientations is able to explain a historical reality
better than the other is not a question that can be resolved on the analytical
level: the acceptance of one or other of the presuppositions on which the
orientations are based implies a pre-analytical choice. For this reason, the transfer of hegemony from
a theory that proposes a certain orientation to one that proposes a different
orientation cannot be evaluated in terms of progress. There is a second type of evolution, one which
concerns theoretical systems. Here, in
addition to the progress involving each of the individual components of the
system, there is also progress in the overall organization of the components. In this case, progress occurs through the
substitution of a specific theory by another, if the new theory integrates
better with the rest of the theories making up the system. Another type of progress of a system concerns
the internal substitution of partial theories by general theories. Yet another consists of the integration, in
the system, of theories relating to new problems. This can happen either because the empirical
research activated by the system itself leads to the discovery of new phenomena
or because the system manages to focus on, and to provide solutions to,
problems that have emerged in an autonomous way. Thus, the progress of a system, even if it
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passes through scientific revolutions, in the end always comes down to a process of analytical refinement and/or theoretical generalization. However, we are only dealing with progress of a system. Also, in this case it is impossible to compare different theoretical systems in terms of progress. This is both due to the incommensurability of the base orientations from which the different systems develop and because different systems define the very scope of investigation, and the problems to which they are applied, in different terms.
From the above, it will be easy to understand the methodological position we have adopted in this book. Our outline of the history of economic thought is neither a history of illustrious personalities nor one of economic themes. Rather, it takes a history-of-ideas approach, whose principal aims consist, on the one hand, of understanding the context in which the ideas are formed and, on the other, of explaining how the fundamental ideas lead to the creation of particular theoretical systems,
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