journaltalk | It seems to me that the dominant narrative of mainstream economics in the past few decades has been one of conquest. If economists engaged with ‘foreigners’ from other fields, it was usually only because they wanted to colonize them. After all, economics may quite well be the last social science where the word imperialism is treated with affection. George Stigler endorsed the field as “an imperial science” that had “been aggressive in addressing central problems in a considerable number of neighboring social disciplines, and without any invitations,” offering an eschatological vision in which he praised “Heinrich Gossen, a high priest of the theory of utility-maximizing behavior” and heralded “the spread of the economists’ theory of behavior to the entire domain of the social sciences” (Stigler 1984, 311-313). Similarly, Gary Becker (1997/1993, 52) argued that “The rational choice model provides the most promising basis presently available for a unified approach to the analysis of the social world by scholars from different social sciences.”
Yet behind this imperialistic rhetoric there has also been a growing feeling of frustration: despite all the battles, economists’ rational proposals, chiseled to perfection, are often ignored. What’s worse, the very methodological foundations of economic science seem to be crumbling as it spreads over an ever growing territory—just like in the case of the (temporarily) eternal imperial Rome (Cullenberg, Amariglio, and Ruccio 2001). Today, the paths to truths seem to be winding and numerous, and some economists are finally willing to admit that unrealistic assumptions are likely to lead to unrealistic, and irrelevant, worlds.2
The core of the trouble with mainstream economics is, I believe, its vision of a utility maximizing human being—the infamous Max U (McCloskey 2010, 297; Lipka 2013). How can we overcome the flatness of the Beckerian-Stiglerian framework? It will perhaps sound daring to economists who have pride in the practicality of their science when I suggest that the place to ask for help is—take a deep breath—theology.
Yet behind this imperialistic rhetoric there has also been a growing feeling of frustration: despite all the battles, economists’ rational proposals, chiseled to perfection, are often ignored. What’s worse, the very methodological foundations of economic science seem to be crumbling as it spreads over an ever growing territory—just like in the case of the (temporarily) eternal imperial Rome (Cullenberg, Amariglio, and Ruccio 2001). Today, the paths to truths seem to be winding and numerous, and some economists are finally willing to admit that unrealistic assumptions are likely to lead to unrealistic, and irrelevant, worlds.2
The core of the trouble with mainstream economics is, I believe, its vision of a utility maximizing human being—the infamous Max U (McCloskey 2010, 297; Lipka 2013). How can we overcome the flatness of the Beckerian-Stiglerian framework? It will perhaps sound daring to economists who have pride in the practicality of their science when I suggest that the place to ask for help is—take a deep breath—theology.
