quarta-feira, 8 de maio de 2013

David Stockman: The Great Deformation, book review - Detlev Schlichter

Cover of David A. Stockman's The Great DeformationDavid Stockman’s new book “The Great Deformation” is a brilliant, penetrating analysis of the present state of the US economy and the US political system, and a detailed account of how the nation got into this mess. The book will upset Democrats and Republicans alike, and quite a few other constituencies as well, which can, in this case, be safely accepted as proof that Stockman’s narrative is spot on.
Stockman is an angry man and he admits so himself early in his 719-page tome. That anger adds bite and verve to his writing and keeps what is in fact a detailed historical account and economic analysis always highly entertaining. The book is long but never boring. Furthermore, Stockman does not let the anger cloud his judgement, which remains, in my view, relentlessly accurate throughout.
When dissecting Washington politics and Wall Street deal-making Stockman naturally draws on his experience as the director of the Office of Management and Budget under Ronald Reagan and his many years as an investment banker and private equity investor, and in so doing he reflects on much of his own professional life with commendable candor. But the book goes beyond these specific periods, and Stockman applies the analytical skills and insights acquired on these jobs to the critical examination of a wide spectrum of policy areas and historic periods. Stockman’s command of these topics and the masses of statistics and financial reports involved, and his powers of analytical dissection are impressive. But what is probably even more important for the success of his analysis is that it is based on an accurate understanding of essential economic relationships, in particular the importance of sound money. This is why the narrative that he develops captures America’s present challenges so truthfully and comprehensively. I very much shared Stockman’s anger when I started reading, but even more so when I had finished.
Public service
Stockman does a great service to his fellow Americans for he is providing a much-needed dose of realism that stands in stark contrast to the contrived optimism emanating from much of the political ‘debate’, from stock-pushing Wall Street experts on financial TV, and from the various Keynesian snake-oil merchants from both parties, all of whom want the public to believe that America is fundamentally healthy and just another round of ‘quantitative easing’, another deficit-funded tax break, or another ‘stimulus’ spending measure away from a bright future of self-sustained recovery. Instead, Stockman says it like it is. The US economy in 2013 is fundamentally weakened and structurally deformed by decades of artificially cheap money and a pathological debt addiction. Not the occasional artificial booms of the past twenty years, driven by Fed-induced bubbles in stocks, high-yield bonds and housing, give a correct picture of America’s long-term economic potential but the intermittent periods of slack when the fire-works on Wall Street inevitably end (and end in tears), and the persistent Main Street reality of declining employment prospects, stagnant real income and impaired competitiveness can no longer be covered up.
The Fed’s policy of cheap and then ever-cheaper credit has not only destroyed the free market by constantly distorting price signals, encouraging reckless debt accumulation and rewarding financial speculation (and consequently widening income and wealth gaps, as Stockman illustrates aplenty), it has thoroughly corrupted the political process as well. Stockman portrays a political system that, courtesy of the Fed’s cheap credit policies and interest rate repression, is now chronically incapable of living within its means, and is thus easy prey for hordes of crony capitalists – from the healthcare industry and the military-industrial complex to the ‘labor aristocracy’ of the united autoworkers union to the ‘too-big-to-fail’ banks, private-equity shops and hedge funds that play the system for a quick profit.
Crucially, Stockman puts his unsentimental assessment of America’s present reality into a broader historical context. Stockman identifies correctly the act of original sin that led America astray from the path of broadly free market economics and limited and fiscally responsible government, namely the abandonment of sound money. As America moved away from hard money, epitomized originally by the gold standard and a Federal Reserve with a strictly limited role as a bankers’ bank, and later, in already watered-down form, by the Bretton Woods gold-exchange-standard, and embraced an unconstrained fiat money system and ‘free-floating’ global paper monies it robbed the free market of its essential inner compass and ‘true north’ of market-based interest rates and market-enforced financial prudence.
The Fed, the central-banking branch of the federal government, was unleashed from its golden shackles in two historic steps in 1933 (by a Democrat president) and in 1971 (by a Republican president) but it was only over the past twenty years under the leaderships of Greenspan and Bernanke that the full destructive potential of unconstrained central banking has come to be felt. As Stockman shows with great clarity, both central bankers turned the Fed into a machine for macro-economic fine-tuning and prosperity management. Greenspan promised to watch the speculating classes’ backs by allowing them to blow bubbles and then shield them from the consequences. Bernanke took the mission one step further as he began (and still continues) to use his vast powers of fixing interest rates and printing limitless amounts of new money to steer the markets to the ‘correct’ yields on government bonds, the ‘correct’ spreads on mortgage-backed-securities, and the ‘appropriate’ shape of the yield curve, and by so doing to centrally manage the overall economy. Needless to say, such socialism for speculators, courtesy of the printing press, is happily explained by Wall Street economists as being in the public interest.
 It is this deformation of money that is the root cause of the numerous deformations in the broader economy and the deformations in the political system. I am grateful that Stockman has fulfilled the important task of documenting in detail the many ways in which unsound money undermines the market economy and corrupts society.
Myth buster
Stockman is a myth buster par excellence. He busts myths that are cherished by Democrats and myths that are cherished by Republicans, and some cherished by both. Never pulling any punches and always happy to name names, he exposes as complicit in the deformation of American capitalism politicians, central bankers, and self-important economists of the Keynesian, monetarist and supply-side persuasion. He also identifies the many crony-capitalists, who shamelessly exploit the system’s many deformations for their own gain. But Stockman not only identifies the villains – the advocates and profiteers of unsound money – he also gives us the heroes, the defenders of sound money, people like Dwight Eisenhower, William McChesney Martin, and Paul Volcker, even if their efforts did ultimately not avert the corruption of American capitalism.
Here are the main myths that Stockman exposes:
Myth one: The 2008 financial crisis was the result of unregulated markets. TARP and the Fed saved the country from Great Depression 2.0
Nonsense, says Stockman. The financial crisis was the consequence of the Fed’s serial bubble blowing, and it should have been allowed to burn itself out in the corridors of Wall Street. Instead, Paulson and Bernanke panicked, declared economic martial law, namely that all rules of fiscal prudence and free market capitalism be tossed aside, and demanded that, via the bail-out of ‘insurance’ giant AIG, firms like Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley and others be saved from choking on their own outsized speculations.
Myth two: There was such a thing as the ‘Reagan Revolution’ and it revitalized American capitalism.
This is obviously a favourite whenever Republicans sit around the campfire. The reality looks different. Despite all the charisma and the eloquent free market rhetoric, the true legacy of the Reagan presidency is a Republican party that is now largely desensitized to fiscal profligacy and reconciled with endless deficits (Cheney’s famous dictum that “deficits don’t matter.”), as the party has happily joined the Democrats in the ‘aggregate demand’ management business. No longer to be outdone by ‘pro-active’ Democrats advocating Keynesian ‘spending’ to ‘stimulate’ growth, the Republicans came to embrace their own version of top-down GDP management: the Art-Laffer-inspired slashing of taxes at all cost. Fiscal prudence – and a true “hands-off” approach to the economy – was finally expunged from Republican DNA.
Myth three: The Great Depression was caused by the gold standard and was ended by Roosevelt’s Keynesian policies.
Ridiculous. The correction of the early 1930s was the combination of delayed effects of the First World War (a US agricultural boom that had led to overinvestment and distorted prices and had already ended in a bust in the 1920s) and the bursting of various bubbles blown during the Jazz-Age-version of bubble finance, such as the foreign bond market that provided funding for the purchase of then-sizable US exports, and the hot-money driven domestic equity boom. These distortions did not come about because of the gold standard but despite of the gold standard, which had been severely weakened as a disciplinary force not least due to the growing role of the Fed since 1914, and in particular since the central bank funded the war effort through money-printing in 1917-1918. By 1929 liquidation and correction were unavoidable. But what should have been a quick and decisive cleansing was turned into a drawn-out economic catastrophe by bad policy. First, there was economic nationalism – tariffs and other forms of protectionism – and then Roosevelt’s disastrous interventionism and relentless tinkering with the economy. As Stockman illustrates, Roosevelt did not enact a Keynesian textbook program at all. In fact, the clueless president had no coherent program whatsoever but instead implemented the type of potpourri of populist anti-market measures so fashionable at the time among Europe’s fascist leaders: odd infrastructure programs, price and wage fixing, state-directed resource use.
“Having triggered the demise of the old international order, the Roosevelt program of necessity was a purely domestic grab bag of experiments, gimmicks, and nonstarters. These ad-hoc Washington interventions – the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA), National Recovery Act (NRA), Agricultural Adjustment Act (AAA) – did little to revive the dormant machinery of market capitalism and economic wealth creation and, instead, mainly shuffled income and resources randomly among regions, industries, and even individual business firms.” (Stockman, page 159)
Intermezzo
The New Deal had meant curtains for the ‘Old Republic’ and any commitment to sound money and sound public finances. However, and luckily for America, the newly expanded tool kit for interventionist politicians and central bankers remained largely unused for two decades after the end of World War II. A happy interregnum of monetary and fiscal discipline commenced, largely due to the good fortune of having people with strong traditional beliefs in positions of power, such as Dwight D. Eisenhower in the White House and William McChesney Martin at the Fed, two of Stockman’s heroes. Eisenhower slashed military spending after the Korean War and established the ‘Eisenhower minimum’ of strictly contained military outlays. Eisenhower was a soldier who hated war. A highly decorated general himself he famously warned his fellow Americans of the growing powers of the military-industrial complex and stared down a few generals himself when letting them resign in protest of his spending cuts. (By comparison, today’s Commander-in-Chief, former community organizer Barack Obama, oversees a military budget that is twice the size of even Bill Clinton’s.)
Over at the Fed, Martin not only coined the phrase “taking the punch bowl away when the party gets started”, he actually meant it and implemented it. Martin was deeply committed to the monetary discipline of the Bretton Woods system.
Needless to say, such discipline did not last long. America’s military adventures in Far East Asia and LBJ’s great society project put new demands on state spending and, by extension, on the printing press. The last link to gold – and the last remaining constraint on paper dollar creation- was severed in August 1971.
Myth four: Free floating paper monies are a sign of free market capitalism
The importance of what happened at Camp David in August 1971 can hardly be overestimated, and Stockman conveys the magnitude of these events vividly:
“Nixon’s estimable free market advisors who gathered at the Camp David weekend were to an astonishing degree clueless as to the consequences of their recommendation to close the gold window and float the dollar. In their wildest imaginations they did not foresee that this would unhinge the monetary and financial nervous system of capitalism. They had no premonition at all that it would pave the way for a forty-year storm of financialization and a debt-besotted symbiosis between central bankers possessed by delusions of grandeur and private gamblers intoxicated with visions of delirious wealth.” (Stockman, page 281)
Stockman is particularly scathing of Milton Friedman’s influence on these events.
“The great irony, then, is that the nation’s most famous modern conservative economist became the father of Big Government, chronic deficits, and national fiscal bankruptcy. It was Friedman who first urged the removal of the Bretton Woods gold standard restraints on central bank money printing, and then added insult to injury by giving conservative sanction to perpetual open market purchases of government debt by the Fed. Friedman’s monetarism thereby institutionalized a regime which allowed politicians to chronically spend without taxing.”(Stockman, page 272)
Famous academic economists who willingly throw themselves into the machinery of policy-making or policy-advice are among the most tragic-comic figures in Stockman’s narrative.
Thus we meet, on the political Left, John Maynard Keynes’s vicar on earth, the pompous Larry Summers pulling really big numbers out of the air, such as $800 billion, and demanding that this be spent instantly by Washington to stimulate the economy. There is, of course, Paul Krugman, who has never met a deficit-spending program that he thought was big enough. On the political Right, there is Art Laffer, who taught the Republicans not to worry about deficits if they result from tax-cutting as tax cuts are always stimulative and thus inherently self-financing. There is Milton Friedman who could explain the evils of rent-control better than anybody else but got free market money horribly wrong and provided intellectual cover for Tricky Dick’s dollar debasement. And then, naturally, there is Ben Bernanke, the veritable Dr. Strangelove of central banking, who believes this is 1930 all over again and who uses the present crisis to re-enact the policy program he believes, based on his own subjective and highly flawed interpretation of the Great Depression, the Fed should have enacted back then. One can only hope that this litany of abject failure serves as a warning to those economists waiting in the wings for their moment in the limelight, such as John Taylor who promotes his eponymous rule as a way to make central banking workable, or those economists who currently embrace the new Keynesian fad of ‘nominal GDP targeting’ (God help us!).
The deserving heroes of Stockman’s account are instead those statesmen and bankers who stuck by the old (and indeed ancient) rules of hard money and ‘balancing the books’.
Myth five: Modern financial markets represent free market capitalism.
Of course, in a proper free market, speculation, trading and the use of leverage would not only be permissible but would have an important role to play in the process of allocating savings and channeling scarce capital to productive uses. These activities would, however, be tightly controlled and strictly limited by the free market’s most effective regulators: profit and loss. Those regulators are now largely weakened or even removed entirely by the present system of costless fiat money, unlimited central bank backstops (Greenspan/Bernanke put) and artificially low interest rates. Without proper capitalist money, hard and apolitical, at the core of the monetary system, a free market in the rest of finance is impossible. Stockman does an excellent job illustrating the extent to which manipulated money and artificially cheap credit are corrupting the entire financial infrastructure by encouraging excessive risk-taking and the misuse of capital with severely adverse long-term consequences.
“…capital markets eventually lose their capacity to honestly price securities under a regime of unsound money; they end up dancing to the tune of the central bank; that is, pricing the trading value of financial assets based on expected central bank interventions, not the intrinsic value of their cash flows, rights, and risks.” (Stockman, page 383)
Stockman analyses a range of leveraged buy-out deals (LBOs) to show how, in our deformed financial system, these can often lead to huge pay-outs for highly leveraged investors while at the same time leaving the firms financially weakened and sometimes even bankrupt. This chapter may appear long and technically challenging for some readers but it is important as it gives the lie to frequent claims by those who operate in this arena that these activities are simply the free market at work, and that they lead to more efficient allocation of corporate control, to investment in productive capital and to jobs. Stockman exposes the full irony of the Republican Party putting forward Mitt Romney as their 2012 presidential candidate and trying to sell him as an experienced business man and ‘job creator’ when, as the former head of private-equity firm Bain Capital, he would be much more suitable as a poster boy for the lucky few who disproportionally benefitted from three decades of bubble finance and all the deformations it created, a system that stands in sharp contrast to the traditional capitalism the Republicans claim to advocate.
Stockman does certainly not make many friends on the political Left with his – brilliant and entirely justified – annihilation of the Roosevelt myth and the childish ‘Keynes 101’–programs of ‘spending ourselves to prosperity’, but his account supports to a considerable degree the allegation that the ‘1 percent’ live high on the hog at the expense of the rest of the population. However, as Stockman demonstrates at length, this is not the result of free market capitalism, and the answer to it is not regulation and confiscatory taxation. The root cause is unsound money and the possibilities that unsound money provides for the flourishing of ‘crony capitalism’.
Stockman’s outlook is not a happy one. As the nation runs out of balance sheets to leverage up and as, inevitably, ‘austerity’ sets in, he foresees ongoing political strife, further financial market manipulations, on-and-off print-operations by the Fed, and new financial crises. He closes the book with a few pages of policy recommendations, all of them sensible, I guess, and naturally following from the preceding extensive analysis. But Stockman is under no illusion that his policy ideas do not stand a snowball’s chance in hell to be implemented. In any case, the book is not really, first and foremost, about a new policy program but about shifting the parameters of the debate by providing a thorough and accurate description of America’s economic and political problems. And here the book succeeds with flying colors.
This is an important book. I wish it a wide readership.

A tragedia da "politica industrial" do governo (politica?; industrial?) - Mansueto Almeida

Keynesianos de botequim ainda acreditam que o governo é mais esperto que o mercado, e que ele pode desenhar e implementar uma política industrial ótima.
Este economista, e Edmar Bacha, são mais realistas.
Mas quem disse que os keynesianos de botequim do governo estão interessados em críticas construtivas?
Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Segue abaixo um artigo que havia preparado para o VALOR e que foi publicado na edição desta quarta-feira dia 8 de maio. No entanto, por problemas de espaço, a versão publicada é um pouco menor do que o artigo original. Assim, o que reproduzo abaixo é o artigo original que é diferente da versão mais curta publicada no jornal, que não inclui os quatro últimos parágrafos.

Política industrial e equilíbrio fiscal

Por Mansueto Almeida
Valor promoveu um debate interessante entre os professores Edmar Bacha e Luiz Gonzaga Belluzzo sobre o futuro da indústria no Brasil reproduzido no caderno Rumos da Economia, de 2 de maio; e, na edição do dia 6, publicou matéria com o presidente do Banco Nacional de Desenvolvimento Econômico e Social (BNDES), Luciano Coutinho. Essas entrevistas contribuem para a discussão do futuro da indústria no Brasil.
Um primeiro ponto destacado pelos três economistas é o reconhecimento que a elevada carga tributária, no Brasil, atrapalha a competitividade da indústria. Estudo recente da Bain e Company para Federação das Indústrias do Estado de São Paulo (Fiesp) destaca que, em média, 40,3% do preço da indústria no Brasil resulta da elevada carga tributária. Isso não seria problema se a produtividade da indústria e da economia fossem elevadas. Mas não é esse o caso. É recorrente em todas as análises que reduzir a carga tributária é importante para o futuro da indústria no Brasil.
Segundo, os três economistas reconhecem que a taxa de câmbio mais desvalorizada é importante para aumentar a rentabilidade das exportações de manufaturados. No entanto, como conseguir uma taxa de câmbio mais desvalorizada não é consensual. O professor Bacha deixa claro na sua análise, ao falar do controle do crescimento do gasto público, que déficit em conta corrente é resultado do excesso de demanda sobre oferta. O governo, ao tentar fixar “na marra” a taxa de câmbio, apenas ocasionaria mais inflação e não resolveria o problema da indústria. Assim, salvar a indústria passaria, necessariamente, por uma redução do gasto do governo, em relação ao Produto Interno Bruto (PIB), que permitiria o aumento do investimento público, a redução de carga tributária e uma abertura planejada da economia.
Os outros dois economistas, Belluzzo e Coutinho, reconhecem a necessidade de maior responsabilidade fiscal, mas parecem acreditar que é possível o governo fixar a taxa de câmbio. Os dois passam a impressão que haveria um aumento de oferta decorrente de uma taxa de câmbio mais desvalorizada. No entanto, em uma economia com mercado de trabalho aquecido, maior desvalorização cambial se transforma em inflação e não resolve o problema de competitividade da indústria. Portanto, a necessidade de maior ajuste fiscal aparece novamente, e mesmo Belluzzo confessa que já chegou a defender uma proposta de “déficit (fiscal) nominal zero”.
Terceiro, os três especialistas falam da importância de maior integração das empresas industriais brasileiras às cadeias de produção global. Mas novamente, por trás desse aparente consenso, há divergências de como essa maior integração ocorreria. Bacha defende a redução da exigência de conteúdo nacional e de tarifas de importação. O maior processo de integração de empresas brasileiras ao resto do mundo resultaria da maior abertura, com perdedores e vencedores escolhidos pelo mercado.
Belluzzo e Coutinho, no entanto, acreditam em maior integração a partir de escolhas do governo via política industrial direcionadas a setores mais intensivos em tecnologia e com maior poder de disseminação de inovação para outros setores, por meio do uso de conteúdo nacional e compras governamentais. Os dois economistas parecem acreditar que maior integração com as cadeias globais é importante desde que parcela substancial de algumas cadeias (intensivas em tecnologia) estejam no Brasil.
Bacha e Coutinho utilizam o mesmo exemplo, a Embraer, para defender pontos de vistas totalmente diferentes. Bacha mostra que a Embraer é competitiva porque compra o que há de melhor no mundo para incorporar na sua produção, o que é possível pelo fato de a empresa não estar sujeita às amarras do conteúdo nacional. Coutinho cita o mesmo exemplo de sucesso de política industrial, mas quando questionado pelos repórteres do fato de a empresa ter baixo conteúdo nacional, reconhece que esse não seria o modelo ideal.
Apesar das diferenças comentadas acima, o que surpreende é que todos os três economistas com larga experiência na academia e governo reconhecem a necessidade de uma maior economia fiscal para “salvar a indústria”. No entanto, ao contrário do que poderia sugerir o debate, estamos fazendo exatamente o contrário.
Por exemplo, a agenda de desonerações de setores específicos da indústria está sendo implementada sem que tenha ocorrido um controle do crescimento da despesa pública. Assim, a maior desoneração levará a uma menor economia fiscal e, consequentemente, menor capacidade de o governo aumentar o investimento público. O aumento da dívida e repasses para bancos públicos com o aumento dos subsídios também limitam o espaço fiscal para novas desonerações e aumento do investimento público. Novamente, a agenda de curto prazo para salvar a indústria atrapalha a agenda fiscal de longo prazo da qual depende a indústria. Por fim, a agenda de concessões com o aumento dos subsídios do BNDES para que as novas obras de investimento saiam do papel pesa sobre as contas públicas e, assim, não permite novas desonerações ao longo dos próximos anos.
Em resumo, sem precisar entrar no mérito das ações de política industrial, uma agenda que o presidente do BNDES não cansa de repetir que é “muito complexa”, o que fica claro no debate do futuro da indústria no Brasil é a necessidade de o mesmo estar ligado ao debate fiscal. Infelizmente, não é isso que  está acontecendo e, assim, as ações de curto prazo para estimular o crescimento de indústria e da economia estão aumentando a incerteza do cenário fiscal de médio e longo prazo e, logo, do próprio futuro da indústria. 

Albert O. Hirschman, by Jeremy Adelman (Cass R. Sunstein, in NYRBooks)

Worldly Philosopher: The Odyssey of Albert O. Hirschman
by Jeremy Adelman
Princeton University Press, 740 pp., $39.95                                                  
sunstein_1-052313.jpg
Albert Hirschman visiting his son-in-law Alain Salomon’s architectural project to develop a small park for children on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, 1971

Albert Hirschman, who died late last year, was one of the most interesting and unusual thinkers of the last century. An anti-utopian reformer with a keen eye for detail, Hirschman insisted on the complexity of social life and human nature. He opposed intransigence in all its forms. He believed that political and economic possibilities could be found in the most surprising places.
Hirschman is principally known for four remarkable books. The most influential, Exit, Voice, and Loyalty (1970), explores two ways to respond to unjust, exasperating, or inefficient organizations and relationships. You can leave (“exit”) or you can complain (“voice”). If you are loyal, you will not exit, and you may or may not speak out. The Passions and the Interests (1977) uncovers a long-lost argument for capitalism in general and commercial interactions in particular. The argument is that trade softens social passions and enmities, ensuring that people see one another not as members of competing tribes, but as potential trading partners. Shifting Involvements (1982) investigates the dramatically different attractions of political engagement and private life, and shows how the disappointments of one can lead to heightened interest in the other. For example, the protest movements of the 1960s were inspired, at least in part, by widespread disappointment with the experience of wealth-seeking and consumption, emphasized in the 1950s.
Finally, The Rhetoric of Reaction (1991) is a study of the reactionary’s tool kit, identifying the standard objections to any and all proposals for reform. The objections are “perversity” (the reform will make the problem even worse), “futility” (the reform will do nothing to solve the problem), and “jeopardy” (the reform will endanger some hard-won social gain). Hirschman shows that these objections are stupefying, mechanical, hyperbolic, and often wrong. In 1845, for example, the historian Jacob Burkhardt deplored the rise of democracy and the expansion of the right to vote on the ground that he did not “expect anything from the despotism of the masses but a future tyranny, which will mean the end of history.”
Hirschman’s work changes how you see the world. It illuminates yesterday, today, and tomorrow. His categories become your categories. A lot of moderate Republicans are disenchanted with the Republican Party. Do they “exit” or do they use their “voice” to try to change the party? In much of the world, nations and regions are now riven by religious and ethnic tensions. Should they emphasize how much their citizens can gain through trading with one another? If people are willing to buy your product, you might not care which god they worship. The Arab Spring saw an extraordinary outburst in political engagement. Is disappointment with the early results shifting people’s involvement toward the private sphere?
The current debate over gun control is a case study in “the rhetoric of reaction.” Those who object to legal restrictions urge that far from decreasing the risk of violence, such restrictions will actually increase it. For Hirschman, this objection would be an example of “perversity.” Opponents also contend that if we want to save lives, gun control will have essentially no effect—the argument from futility. We can find precisely the same rhetorical gambits in countless other debates, including those over Obamacare, increases in the minimum wage, affirmative action, and same-sex marriage.
Hirschman, born in 1915 in Berlin, was an economist by training, and he spent a lot of time reading Adam Smith, but his great intellectual loves were Montaigne (with his advice to “observe, observe perpetually”) and Machiavelli. To support his points, Hirschman drew on Dante, Jane Austen, Flaubert, Chekhov, and Yeats. He had a keen interest in social psychology. Crossing Boundaries is the title of one of his books; another is called Essays in Trespassing.
Part of what made Hirschman distinctive, even unique, was his ability to develop large themes from sharp observations of particular practices, and thus to connect apparently unrelated social phenomena. It was an observation of the behavior of motorists in a tunnel in Boston—who honked with outrage when people in an adjacent lane started to move while their lane remained stuck—that helped him to develop a general theory of disappointment and indignation. He was also wry and mischievous. As he wrote in the preface to Exit, Voice, and Loyalty:
Having found my own unifying way of looking at issues as diverse as competition and the two-party system, divorce and the American character, black power and the failure of “unhappy” top officials to resign over Vietnam, I decided to let myself go a little.
As Jeremy Adelman shows in his astonishing and moving biography, Hirschman sought, in his early twenties and long before becoming a writer, to “prove Hamlet wrong.” In Shakespeare’s account, Hamlet is immobilized and defeated by doubt. Hirschman was a great believer in doubt—he never doubted it—and he certainly doubted his own convictions. At a conference designed to celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of his first book, who else would take the opportunity to show that one of his own central arguments was wrong? Who else would publish an essay in The American Economic Review exploring the “overproduction of opinionated opinion,” questioning the value of having strong opinions, and emphasizing the importance of doubting one’s opinions and even one’s tastes? Hirschman thought that strong opinions, as such, “might be dangerous to the health of our democracy,” because they are an obstacle to mutual understanding and constructive problem-solving. Writing in 1989, he was not speaking of the current political culture, but he might as well have been.
In seeking to prove Hamlet wrong, Hirschman was suggesting that doubt could be a source not of paralysis and death but of creativity and self-renewal. One of his last books, published when he was about eighty, is called A Propensity to Self-Subversion. In the title essay, Hirschman celebrates skepticism about his own theories and ideas, and he captures not only the insight but also the pleasure, even the joy, that can come from learning that one had it wrong.
He insisted that human history provides “stories, intricate and often nonrepeatable,” which “look more like tricks history has up its sleeve than like social-scientific regularities, not to speak of laws.” He was interested in “the many might-have-beens of history,” including “felicitous and surprising escapes from disaster.” One of his most important essays is called “Against Parsimony,” which argues that people sometimes choose to change their own preferences (consider, for example, efforts to quit smoking), and that some resources, such as love or public spirit, “may well increase rather than decrease through use.”
Hirschman was delighted by paradoxes, unintended consequences (especially good ones), the telling detail, inventories of actual practices (rather than big theories), surprises, and improvisation. In his view, “history is nothing if not farfetched.” He invented the term “possibilism,” meant to draw attention to “the discovery of paths, however narrow, leading to an outcome that appears to be foreclosed on the basis of probabilistic reasoning alone.” In his lifetime, one of many such outcomes was the abrupt collapse of the Soviet Union in 1989, which almost no one anticipated. Speaking of paradoxes: an economist by profession, he wasn’t great at math, and he wrote with remarkable clarity and subtlety.
Hirschman’s work is more than interesting enough to justify a book (or two, or ten), but Adelman’s achievement is to demonstrate, in novelistic detail, that he also lived an astounding life, full of narrow paths and ridiculously improbable twists and turns. Brought up in Berlin, he was raised during the better days of the Weimar Republic, when Berlin was alive with the avant-garde. Both of his parents’ families had converted from Judaism to Protestantism, and the family celebrated Christmas, not as a religious occasion but as a social one, with gifts for the children. Hirschman was baptized but declined to be confirmed: “Somehow I wasn’t impressed by the minister, and I asked my parents to stop.”
At the age of nine, he was sent to the Französisches Gymnasium, an intellectual hothouse from which he graduated in 1932. In the early 1930s, of course, the influence of the Nazi party was swiftly expanding. Hirschman engaged in countless discussions with his Nazi classmates; his physical education teacher wore a swastika. Communism was also an important presence, and so Hirschman had early and close experience with intransigence on both the left and the right. The topic of his final exam was a quotation from Spinoza: “One should neither laugh nor cry at the world, but understand it.”
After graduation, Hirschman began to study economics at the University of Berlin, which was of course in the midst of intense political conflict, and which contained a large number of Hitler supporters. In his own account, the situation did not seem truly grave until “the Reichstag fire, which really marked the beginning of the political horror.” Hirschman faced personal horror as well. His father, a physician, was diagnosed with terminal cancer and quickly died. Confronted by a new law that threw Jews out of universities, Hirschman chose to exit while still in his teens and left for Paris, where he formed relationships with a number of refugees from Russia, Italy, and Germany.
As Adelman tells the tale, Paris left an indelible mark on Hirschman. Surrounded by political dogmas of many different kinds but rejecting every “guiding ism,” he developed an immense enthusiasm for what he called “petites idées”—small ideas and little observations that, for the rest of his life, he would write down in notebooks or on scraps of paper. In Paris he developed the habit of rejecting abstract theories in favor of close observations of actual practices.
In dealing with events during the difficult period between 1935 and 1938, Hirschman showed a great deal of resilience and bravery. He decided to fight in the Spanish civil war against Franco with the very first Italian and German volunteers, some of whom were killed on the battlefield. For the rest of his life, Hirschman remained entirely silent about this experience, even with his wife, though “the scars on his neck and leg made it impossible for her to forget.” Returning from the war, he worked closely with the anti-Fascist Italian underground, carrying secret letters and documents back and forth from Paris.
As war loomed between France and Germany, Hirschman became a soldier for a second time, ready to fight for the French in what many people expected to be a prolonged battle. After the French defense quickly collapsed, Hirschman lived under German occupation and engaged in what was probably the most courageous and hazardous work of his life. Along with Varian Fry, a classicist from Harvard, he labored successfully to get stateless refugees out of France. In 1939 and 1940, they created a network that would enable more than two thousand refugees to exit. As Adelman writes, the “list of the saved reads like a who’s who.” It included Hannah Arendt, André Breton, Marc Chagall, Marcel Duchamp, and Max Ernst. Meticulous logistical planning was required to work out the right routes and to obtain the necessary exit and transit visas. Hirschman’s “colleagues marveled at his skill; for all his youth he was a font of devious ingenuity and seasoned wisdom.”
It was inevitable that Hirschman would find himself at serious personal risk. The Vichy government was helping agents of the Gestapo to find German Jews. It was time to run, taking one of the same routes that he had devised for so many others. Hirschman threw away everything he owned except what he could fit in a little bag (including his precious copy of Montaigne’s Essais and an extra pair of socks). With two other refugees, he started the long, grueling walk through the Pyrenees. Hirschman had to carry one of his exhausted companions for a part of the way.
After seven hours on foot, they crossed into Spain, and Hirschman made it into Portugal, where he waited for five weeks for the SS Excalibur, the ship that would take him to New York. In his mid-twenties, he wrote his mother, still in Germany, from the ship:
I shall enter this country with the will of getting to something, of showing that I have merited the extraordinary chain of lucky incidents which have led me here. Though I still love France, I am of course disappointed in many ways, and this makes my fourth—or is it the fifth?—emigration easier for me.
Hirschman had of course experienced plenty of horrific bad luck as well, but his characteristic hopefulness stood him in good stead. (One of his books is called A Bias for Hope.) Courtesy of the Rockefeller Foundation, he accepted a two-year fellowship at the University of California at Berkeley. Soon after his arrival there, he met Sarah Chapiro in the cafeteria at International House. Instantly captivated by her, he proposed eight weeks later, and she accepted.
At Berkeley, Hirschman focused on the effects of international trade on national economies. As part of his research, he developed statistical indices designed to measure market concentration (the degree to which a market is dominated by a limited number of firms) and market power. In a letter to his sister, Hirschman described his results as “pretty interesting”—a lovely understatement in view of the fact that those results continue to have basic importance for many areas of economics (including antitrust), under the name of the Herfindahl-Hirschman Index, which measures the level of concentration in industries, and thus helps show how competitive they are. (Orris Herfindahl is often given credit for the index, but Hirschman got there first.)
Exploring the consequences of national power for the structure of foreign trade, Hirschman published his first book in 1945. Among other things, it addressed an interesting puzzle: Nazi Germany shifted from commerce with other wealthy nations to dealing with its smaller and less prosperous neighbors (Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania). Hirschman explained that it did so in order to achieve economic and thus political dominance over them. The problem is that when some nations are wealthier than others, national sovereignty can produce economic sovereignty over entire regions. Hirschman’s first book, largely ignored in its own time and also ours, helps to explain a number of current predicaments. Consider China’s growing economic power and the political dominance that is resulting from that power.
As the book was being completed, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, and the young German economist, so recently a soldier in Spain and France, promptly enlisted in the US Army. Originally assigned to a combat unit, Hirschman was shifted to the Office of Strategic Services, where he worked as an interpreter. He read voraciously, including Albert Camus and Friedrich Hayek, whose great work, The Road to Serfdom, he found “very useful for someone like me who grew up in a ‘collectivist’ climate—it makes you rethink many things….” Notwithstanding his extensive reading, he abandoned the idea of an academic career, believing that he had no future in it.
After the war ended, Hirschman was assigned to be the interpreter in the first Allied war crimes trial, brought against the German General Anton Dostler, who had ordered the execution of prisoners in plain violation of conventions of war. Hirschman sat next to Dostler through the dramatic five-day trial. What must this have been like for him? The only record of his feelings is a single sentence in The New York Times, which reported that the nameless American “interpreter turned pale as he had to utter the death sentence” to the German general. Home in California, Sarah came across a black-and-white photo of her husband, leaning close to the Nazi general. Reading about how the interpreter went pale, she “breathed a sigh of relief that the war had not destroyed her husband’s sensitivity.”
After returning to Washington, Hirschman was hired by the Federal Reserve Board and then the Economic Cooperation Administration (ECA), where he emphasized the need for multilateral trading and helped to develop the thinking behind the Marshall Plan. With his ECA office just a few blocks from the White House, Hirschman argued vigorously against postwar austerity and for opening rather than closing markets. (It is reasonable to speculate that in the current economic situation, he would be a strong opponent of both austerity and protectionism.) Notwithstanding the high quality of his work, McCarthyism hit him directly and hard. A security review wrongly concluded, on the basis of unsubstantiated rumors, that he had some sympathy with communism. As a result, he was dismissed from the federal government in 1951. Adelman shows that false rumors about his past had dogged him since he joined the army.
Now with two daughters, Hirschman and his wife made their way to South America and to Colombia. There he went to work for the World Bank, acquired a lifelong interest in Latin America, and shifted the focus of his work to economic development. Advising Colombia’s president, he found a large disconnect between standard economic theory and actual practice. He produced a paper called “Case Studies of Instances of Successful Economic Development in Colombia,” which emphasized surprising success stories, including that of a bank specializing in small loans to individuals, artisans, and small firms, “which has experienced remarkable expansion recently due to novel methods and political support.”
In 1956, possibilism struck home. He received an unexpected letter from the chair of Yale’s economics department, who asked him whether he might be willing to come to New Haven as a visiting research professor. He accepted immediately, and his academic career started in his forties.
In New Haven, he produced his second book, The Strategy of Economic Development, which attacked the prevailing wisdom in favor of “balanced growth” and top-down planning. He argued instead for providing economic support to industries with strong “linkages,” understood as economic relationships with others. If one sector is closely linked to others, its own development, however unbalanced, can spur additional development and promote growth. Hirschman showed that in underdeveloped countries, the iron and steel industry tends to have high linkages; for that reason, it makes sense for such countries to support that industry. He contended that development depends “on calling forth and enlisting for development purposes resources and abilities that are hidden, scattered, or badly utilized.” In Hirschman’s account, history had no single course and could not be planned.
As he completed The Strategy of Economic Development, his exhilaration was palpable. He wrote his sister that an old teacher had explained
that I shouldn’t worry about love—and she stretched out her arms and then slowly brought her two index fingers together from afar—as sure as that, she said, would the girl that I will love get together with me one day. As it may be, along the lines of the example I think that there exists for each of us a personal (and nevertheless general) truth, we only have to trace it and then follow it deliberately and courageously. And I just had these last months the exciting feeling that I am about to succeed in following my truth.
Though the book received favorable reviews (and was destined to become a classic), Hirschman’s visiting professorship had run out at Yale. But in relatively short order, Columbia offered him his first real academic appointment. The only problem was that he hated teaching (and seemed to have a phobia about it throughout his life). In 1963, he moved to Harvard. Influenced by the protest movements of the 1960s, and seeking to challenge the view that market competition was a cure-all, he wrote Exit, Voice, and Loyalty, which became an immediate sensation. As Adelman notes, the immense influence of the book stems in part from the familiarity and wide application of the master concepts. Faced with a difficult nation, employer, credit card company, religion, or personal relationship, does one leave, protest, or keep quiet? All of us have had to answer that question, and Hirschman offered a new set of categories with which to answer it.
Despising teaching as much as he loved writing, Hirschman longed to spend time at the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. In 1971, he asked whether he could visit there for the following year. He was indeed invited and the move became permanent. At the institute, Hirschman became keenly interested in the origins of capitalism and embarked on the project that became The Passions and the Interests. In that work, he rejected the nostalgia, current at the time, for a supposedly lost world of republican virtue, free of commercial avarice. He also rejected the suggestion, prominent then and now in the economics profession, that markets simply take human beings as they are, with their inevitable self-interest.
Instead he observed that the early theorists of free markets thought that commerce would transform people, by cooling our passions and making us gentler. In the words of Samuel Ricard in 1704, commercial interactions would encourage citizens “to be honest, to acquire manners, to be prudent and reserved in both talk and action.” At the same time, however, Hirschman worried that efforts to focus people on economic gain could “have the side effect of killing the civic spirit and of thereby opening the door to tyranny.”
Hirschman’s thinking about the alternating ease and difficulty of getting people to participate in public life led him to Shifting Involvements—a small masterpiece that illuminates the Tea Party, Occupy Wall Street, and protest movements of diverse kinds. Hirschman emphasized that human beings are often choosing between private and public life, and thus between the different forms of happiness that are associated with each of them. He described “pendular motions of collective behavior,” in which people swing from happiness to disappointment in one kind of activity, and then to the other. For example, the disappointments and frustrations of the student rebellions of the late 1960s encouraged a return to private life in the 1970s and 1980s. Rejecting the highly influential idea that the problem of collective action has a kind of invariable, ahistorical “logic,” Hirschman drew attention to the immense importance of history and timing as, in Adelman’s words, “people leave the streets and plazas disenchanted with politics to seek happiness in the shopping malls”—and vice versa.
The Rhetoric of Reaction, written in his mid-seventies, was an outgrowth of the conservative ascendancy of the 1980s, and it speaks directly to our current debates. Hirschman was struck by the routine, stylized, even mechanical character of much conservative thinking—and its close connection, in its rhetoric, to arguments that have been made for hundreds of years. Indeed, conservative rhetoric is the book’s target, perhaps above all in the person of Edmund Burke, who deplored the French Revolution and its emphasis on the rights of men, and who exclaimed, “Massacre, torture, hanging! These are your rights of men!” But in a fascinating flip, the book ends with a demonstration that the left has its own, closely related rhetorical moves. Where conservatives argue that further reforms will jeopardize precious accomplishments, the left throws “caution to the wind, to disregard not only tradition but the whole concept of unintended consequences of human action,” and hence “progressives are forever ready to mold and remold society at will and have no doubt about their ability to control events.”
Commenting on this aspect of his project, Hirschman refers to the
sheer fun in pursuing my argument into this originally unexpected direction. As is well known, criticizing one’s friends is more demanding and therefore more interesting than to expose once again the boring errors of one’s adversaries. So there was some intellectual exhilaration in my exercise at self-subversion.
That exercise was intended to challenge intransigence on the part of both the right and the left—and to get people to listen to one another in a spirit of humility, rather than making their standard, mind-numbing rhetorical moves.
Hirschman was sharp and productive into his eighties, but his faculties started to fail him, and by 1997, he had lost the ability to write or read. Ultimately he withdrew entirely into himself. In Adelman’s words, he was forced “to gaze in silence from a wheelchair” while Sarah “comforted and accompanied an increasingly spectral husband through his decline.” In 2011, Sarah herself fell ill with cancer and notwithstanding “her determination to be there until his end, the cancer would not be stopped.” The morning after her death, their daughter Katia delivered the news. “Albert’s head jerked up and for a moment his body shook before settling back into his remove.”
Of his many books, Hirschman’s personal favorite was The Passions and the Interests. His explanation is illuminating:
It really was the fruit of free creation. I did not write it against anybody…. That book gave me prolonged pleasure: to write, feeling free to discover things without having to prove someone wrong. A very special case.
That special case has proved to be an enduring achievement, not only because of its eye-opening exploration of the softening power of commerce, but also because of its own gentle and capacious spirit. But if The Passions and the Interests was his favorite, and Exit, Voice, and Loyalty his most important, there can be no question about his most characteristic: The Rhetoric of Reaction. The sustained attack on intransigence, the bias in favor of hope, the delight in paradox, the insistence on the creative power of doubt—all these prove a lot of people wrong, not just Hamlet.

A Journey Inside the Whale: books, books, books (a gentle madness...) - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

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A Journey Inside the Whale: submergindo sob o peso dos livros, literalmente

Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Existem coisas contra as quais não adianta lutar, ao que parece. Ao vir para os EUA, e “abandonar” um número indeterminado de livros no Brasil (talvez na casa de uns poucos milhares), fiz-me a promessa – oh, quão vãs são essas promessas contra a natureza – de que não iria comprar livros, ou pelo menos muitos livros. Afinal de contas, já não tenho onde colocar no Brasil, e se começasse a comprar outros aqui teria também de comprar mais estantes, bem mais do que desejaria.
Mas, quem disse que essa loucura gentil, essa compulsão perigosa, esse desvio de caráter, essa tendência maniática, todos esses vícios poderiam ser controlados apenas por uma promessinha assim feita ao apagar das luzes brasilienses e antes de chegar na realidade livresca “estadounidense”, como gostam de dizer os companheiros a respeito de tudo o que se refere ao império. Pois fiquem sabendo os companheiros que este império do mal, como eles gostariam que fosse, é antes de tudo um império do saber, do conhecimento, da abundância livresca, e de revistas, e de sites, e de tudo o que possa se expressar livremente, e que tem relação com o gênio humano (mas também tem muita bobagem, e outras francamente inqualificáveis).
Este é também o Império do livre comércio, da lei da oferta e da procura (ela funciona, para os que não acreditam nos mercados), das relações comerciais livremente consentidas, algumas até obrigadas, tal o volume de publicidade e de apelos de toda ordem. Os meus apelos todos sabem quais são, e por vezes fica difícil resistir. Vinha resistindo, mais ou menos, e nos quatro últimos meses só tinha comprado uns 10 ou 15 livros, poucos para o meu gosto e meu ritmo habitual. Pois agora exagerei, talvez, mas as justificativas são explicadas abaixo, como passo a relatar.
Como sempre, procuro resistir, a despeito de sempre frequentar livrarias e de consultar os lançamentos pelos veículos de book reviews e pelos boletins das editoras. Nas livrarias, sempre sento com dois ou três no café (invariavelmente um Starbucks, quando se trata da Barnes & Noble, a única grande rede que ainda resiste ao império dos ebooks), e fico fazendo anotações nos meus Moleskines de bolso (sempre levo dois, por se acaso...), prometendo a mim mesmo não comprar, ou só comprar depois que aparecer mais barato no Abebooks (para os que não sabem, se trata da maior rede de livros usados do mundo, com filiais por vários países, o que não inclui, of course, o Brasil). Fico anotando, com aquela angústia a apertar o coração sobre se devo comprar ou não, quando vou ter tempo de ler por inteiro, anotar, e usar em algum trabalho corrente ou futuro. Dúvidas kirkegaardianas, para os que conhecem esse tipo de angústia intelectual.
Hélas, infelizmente, malgré moi, in despite of promises, recaí nos velhos vícios. Tive um acesso de encomendite aguda, logo transformada em compras compulsivas num dos maiores sebos reais dos EUA, a livraria Powell’s, em Chicago (mas tem também em Portland, no Oregon). Voltei de viagem, ao Illinois (em Urbana e Chicago) com o carro cheio de livros, meus e de Carmen Lícia. Relaciono os meus, cuja aquisição começou antes de partir em viagem (pelo Abebooks, justamente), que recolhi a chegar de volta, feliz com os meus 20 kgs de livros.
Começo então pelos que já tinha encomendado antes de partir (mas apenas desta fase recente, deixando de lado os que comprei ou recebi nos meses anteriores a maio).
Primeiro tinha pensado em comprar o último do Thomas Sowell, possivelmente um dos maiores intelectuais dos EUA, negro, mas indiferente a isso, ou melhor, altamente preocupado em que a “raça” não se converta em ideologia. Seu livro mais recente (não o último, claro), que acaba de sair em 2013, se chama, justamente, Intellectuals and Race, que eu folheei bastante numa ida à B&N, fiquei namorando, anotando e quase comprei, desistindo para cumprir minha promessa. Mas não resisti quando vi que havia uma síntese de seus principais escritos, o que me pareceu mais apropriado. Assim, encomendei pela Abebooks, pelo ridículo valor de 4 dólares, mas novo, absolutamente novo (ao preço de capa de $ 29.99), mais 3 dólares de frete, The Thomas Sowell Reader, um livro de 2011 da Basic Books, contendo os trabalhos mais importantes de Sowell nos campos das questões sociais, economia, política, questões jurídicas, raça e etnicidade, educação, além de rascunhos biográficos e pensamentos ao acaso, como ele chamou sua última seção. Recomendo, vivamente: são 400 páginas da mais pura honestidade intelectual disponível no mercado (a preços de mercado...).
Depois encomendei um livro que acaba de sair (por $ 35, a preço de editora), o do David Stockman, The Great Deformation: the corruption of capitalism in America (que paguei um pouco mais, $ 23 + 3); livro novíssimo, estrito e lato sensu, pois ainda está sendo resenhado nos principais veículos literários (eu mesmo já postei trechos e críticas em meu blog). Ele foi secretário do Orçamento do primeiro Reagan, e se demitiu no meio do segundo ano, quando percebeu que, a despeito das promessas de correção das deformações do capitalismo americano, o Reagan (ou seus conselheiros) estava na verdade praticando Keynesianismo militar. De fato, existe muita bobagem escrita sobre o tal de neoliberalismo ou conservadorismo econômico do Reagan, e sua Reaganomics, ou supply side economics. Lembro-me de ter lido, na época (começo dos anos 1980) artigos do próprio Stockman, defendendo os princípios econômicos republicanos, que foram abandonados pelos próprios republicanos, e aí ele se mandou, simplesmente, pois não queria compartilhar dos gastos militares e outras embromações. O livro é um catatau de mais de 700 páginas, que examina toda a política econômica americana desde os anos Reagan, mas recua em diversas passagens ao New Deal de Roosevelt, que ele desmistifica devidamente, como a própria crise atual. Vale vários debates, o que pretendo fazer, assim que mergulhar no livro.
Também encomendei na Abebooks, antes de partir, e ao ridículo preço de 5 dólares, o primeiro livro do Francis Fukuyama dedicado à teoria política: The Origins of Political Order, que vai da era das cavernas à Revolução francesa. Já conhecia o livro, por ter lido resenhas, trechos e folheado em livrarias, e estava esperando a publicação dos dois (o segundo ainda não saiu) para comprar de uma vez. Como ainda demora um pouco, comprei a edição paperback (mas igualmente novíssimo, como sempre faço, um pouco por sorte, outro por comparação) no sebo eletrônico. O livro é antes de mais nada uma homenagem ao seu velho mestre Samuel Huntington, cujo Political Order in Changing Societies também aprecio, como Fukuyama (que corrige e completa que foi seu antigo mentor e guia intelectual).
Bem, aí parti para dar minha palestra sobre “Brazilian Foreign Policy and the Economic Consequences of Mister Lula” (excusez du Keynesianisme involontaire), no Lemann Institute of Brazilian Studies da Universidade do Illinois em Urbana. Lá comecei ganhando o livro mais recente de meu amigo Jerry Dávila, Dictatorship in South America (Wiley-Blackwell, 2013), examinando os casos da Argentina, Brasil e Chile; ele está dirigindo o Institute e dá aulas de história. Gostei, e vou resenhar, assim que possível. Também ganhei, do meu velho amigo, grande brasilianista, e ex-diretor do mesmo Instituto, Joseph Love, seu famoso livro sobre o regionalismo gaúcho, Rio Grande do Sul and Brazilian Regionalism, 1882-1930 (Stanford, 1971), examinando o pensamento e a ação dos castilhistas e outros malucos que fizeram do RS uma potência política; eu só tinha uma edição brasileira desse livro, mal traduzido por sinal, e sem as muitas fotos do original. Bem, esses dois não me custaram nada, só carregar, mas em compensação deixei com eles muitos livros, meus, da Funag, e a RBPI, que tinha levado especialmente para isso. Sabem como é: ninguém visita grandes amigos acadêmicos impunemente. Meus três livros mais recentes (Relações Internacionais, pela LTC, Globalizando, pela Lumen Juris, e Integração Regional, pela Saraiva) valeram o convite, os dois restaurantes, e a simpatia dos dois acima citados, mais o Werner Baer, que já formou gerações de economistas em Urbana (antes em Vanderbilt), mas parece que alguns não aprenderam muito...
Aproveitei a loja da Apple na Universidade para comprar o novo iPad mini, na maior potência e a um preço menor do que as lojas comerciais; Carmen Lícia comprou um disco externo, para guardar suas milhares de fotos que ilustram nossas viagens (e algumas comilanças, também). Pelo menos este iPad pesa menos na barriga quando vou ler na cama, iBooks, Kindle, ou outros ebooks em outras plataformas.

Bem, agora começa realmente o festival de livros, na Powell’s de Chicago, onde fui duas vezes, uma delas sozinho, o que me permitiu abusar (mas Carmen Lícia me disse que já tinha comprado tudo o que precisava, uns quatro ou cinco de sua área de estudos chineses e orientais). Vou só relacionar os livros, pois seria muito extenso e cansativo falar de cada um deles, vários que eu já conhecia de bibliotecas, resenhas ou miradas rápidas em livrarias. Cada um deles custou, com uma ou duas exceções, de 4 a 6 dólares, apenas, e seria um crime deixá-los na prateleira, pegando poeira, a esses preços, e todos totalmente novos, ou seja, usados não usados (eles são loucos esses caras da Powell’s, esses americanos, em geral).

Comprados na Powell’s, de Chicago:
1) Feinstein, Temin, Toniolo: The World Economy between the World Wars (Oxford, 2008); já tinha lido esse livro e anotado, copiado, na Biblioteca do Itamaraty; muito bom e recomendo vivamente, para os que praticam história econômica, como eu;
2) Peter Isard: Globalization and the International Financial System: what’s wrong and what can be done (Cambridge: 2005); história econômica empírica, não impressionismo;
3) A. C. Crayling: Toward the Light of Liberty: the struggles for freedom and rights tha made the Modern Western World (Walker, 2007); um exame da história e do contexto das grandes declarações revolucionárias pelas liberdades democráticas;
4) Timothy Ferris: The Science of Liberty: Democracy, Reason, and the Laws of Nature (Harper Collins, 2010); como a revolução científica impulsionou a democracia;
5) David. L. Bosco: Five to Rule Them All: The UN Security Council and the Making of Modern World (Oxford, 2009); a velha e a nova geopolítica e o multilateralismo;
6) Sylvia Nasar: Grand Pursuit: The Story of Economic Genius (Simon and Schuster, 2011); pela mesma autora de A Beautiful Mind, um exame dos grandes economistas;
7) Andreas Kalivas and Ira Katznelson: Liberal Beginnings: Making a Republic for the Moderns (Cambridge, 2008); a velha questão da democracia dos antigos e modernos;
8) Guillermo Calvo: Emerging Capital Markets in Turmoil: Bad luck or Bad Policy? (MIT Press, 2005); o brilhante economista argentino nos EUA (FMI e universidades) que trata das crises financeiras dos anos 1990, inclusive no seu país e no Brasil;
9) E. Wayne Nafziger: Economic Development (Cambridge, 2004); 4a edição deste excelente manual acadêmico, precioso, a vários títulos, inclusive a bibliografia;
10) Findlay, Henriksson, Lindgren and Lundhal (eds): Eli Heckscher, International Trade, and Economic History (MIT Press, 2006); estudos em homenagem ao grande teórico do comércio internacional, um grande historiador econômico, além disso.

Bem, esses foram os poucos livros que comprei em Chicago, onde tinha ido apenas para assistir apresentações de ex-alunos de Friedrich Katz (um austríaco emigrado nos EUA, como tantos intelectuais fugidos do nazismo) e de John Coastsworth (de quem tenho livros de quando ela ainda estava em Harvard, agora na Columbia), e a quem conheci pessoalmente: dei-lhe um livro meu e ficamos de nos ver em NY; os dois foram os grandes promotores da história econômica da América Latina em Chicago, uma tradição que sobrevive apenas parcialmente, depois da morte do primeiro e da saída do segundo; Chicago é sinônimo de economia teórica, atualmente, quando não denegrida pelo mito absolutamente simplista dos Chicago boys e sua economia liberal (os austríacos não acham, e consideram os chicagoanos ainda intervencionistas demais). Mas é isso.
Eram tantos livros que não pude carregar para casa de uma vez só: tive de fazer em duas viagens, do carro na garagem ao apartamento, e agora não tenho onde coloca-los mais; estão todos no chão, esperando que eu um dia arrume as mesas; vou ter de usar o parapeito das janelas, ou comprar mais estantes...
Um dia volto a falar de todos esses livros, ou vou usá-los em meus trabalhos; estou terminando um texto sobre a Brazilian Trade Policy, e depois tenho de fazer um outros sobre Economic Regime Change in Brazil, o que vai me dar muito prazer. Sim, ainda tenho um outro livrão, de mais de 700 páginas, que comprei numa sessão em homenagem ao Albert Hirschman, em Princeton, onde fui duas semanas atrás: sua biografia intelectual por Jeremy Adelman, um ex-aluno e admirador (como eu, aliás...). Falando nisso, vou postar um artigo sobre ele na mais recente New York Review of Books. Na sequência...
Quando vou terminar de ler e de escrever? Não tenho certeza, mas como já adiantei ao Criador (se ele me escuta, o que duvido, pois eu desconfio que ele não está nem aí para irreligiosos como eu), vou precisar de mais ou menos 150 anos adicionais, para terminar de ler só o que tenho, sem falar de mais 200 outros, para ler os de bibliotecas e os que foram aparecendo por aí.
Voltarei a falar de livros, leituras, escritos, e outras distrações intelectuais...
Não babem no teclado, por favor...

Chicago-Hartford, 5-7 Maio 2013.

terça-feira, 7 de maio de 2013

Qual deles seria maior?: o cinismo, a mentira, a desonestidade ou a desfaçatez?

Ou todos eles juntos e mais alguma coisa, que nem pretendo mencionar, para não ofender algumas almas sensíveis, que talvez se choquem com a corrupção e aquele velho hábito dos que mandam de praticar um esporte muito conhecido desde sempre, já estigmatizado por Antonio Vieira e outros espíritos mais lúcidos...
Paulo Roberto de Almeida 

Editorial O Estado de S.Paulo, 7/05/2013

É temerária a perspectiva de que “se passe a menosprezar o exercício da democracia e se comece a aplicar a ditadura de um partido sobre os demais”. Por outro lado, “você pode fazer o jogo político, pode fazer aliança política, pode fazer coalizão política, mas não precisa estabelecer uma relação promíscua para fazer política”. Um petista desavisado que topasse com essas declarações sobre a política brasileira não hesitaria em atribuí-las à conspiração da “mídia conservadora” para “acabar com o Partido dos Trabalhadores (PT)”. Mas são declarações textuais de Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, o grande líder do PT. Constam de mais uma publicação destinada a cultivar o mito petista, o livro 10 Anos de Governos Pós-Neoliberais no Brasil: Lula e Dilma, que será lançado dia 13.
Quem acompanha com um mínimo de espírito crítico a trajetória política de Lula sabe do absoluto descompromisso do ex-presidente com a coerência. Lula fala o que quer, quando quer, movido por notável intuição político-eleitoral e comprovado senso de oportunidade. Não tem o menor escrúpulo de desdizer hoje o que afirmou ontem nem de fazer amanhã o que condenou hoje. Assim, Lula declarar que tem medo da “ditadura de um partido sobre os demais” e reprovar a prática de “relação promíscua para fazer política” não chega a ser surpreendente, mas é de um cinismo de fazer corar um monge de pedra.
Que dizer, então, do comentário do “principal protagonista” do PT a respeito do polêmico episódio da divulgação da Carta ao Povo Brasileiro? Essa proclamação, de cunho essencialmente eleitoral, cumpriu em 2002 o objetivo de, poucos meses antes da eleição presidencial, tranquilizar os setores da opinião pública temerosos diante da determinação dos radicais lulopetistas de reverter a política econômico-financeira “neoliberal” com que o governo FHC lograra acabar com a inflação, promover a estabilidade e retomar o crescimento social e econômico.
Eleito, Lula realmente manteve os fundamentos econômicos “neoliberais”, que permitiram a vigorosa ampliação dos programas sociais iniciados por seu antecessor. E agora, num surto de sinceridade, se dá ao desfrute de fazer blague com aqueles acontecimentos: “Eu era radicalmente contra a carta porque ela dizia coisas que eu não queria falar, mas hoje eu reconheço que ela foi extremamente importante”. Teria sido mais verdadeiro se dissesse “útil”.
De qualquer modo, ao longo das 20 páginas em que o organizador do livro, coadjuvado por outro fiel seguidor do ex-presidente, se empenha em levantar a bola para o entrevistado, Lula faz também uma análise do PT atual a que certamente só se permitiu porque se considera soberano, com direito ao luxo de dizer a mais pura verdade: o Partido dos Trabalhadores está dividido hoje em dois grupos – “o eleitoreiro, parlamentar, o PT dos dirigentes”, e o partido “da base, igualzinho ao que era em 1980″.
O que Lula não chega a admitir é que, dentro da “democracia petista” – que, de resto, não é muito diferente daquela praticada pelos outros partidos -, quem manda de fato são os “dirigentes”, hoje obcecados em perpetuar-se no poder. A base, “igualzinha ao que era em 1980″, continua, é claro, defendendo as mesmas propostas radicais que fizeram Lula ser derrotado em três pleitos sucessivos. E para os “dirigentes” é muito importante que mantenha esse discurso, para que o PT possa continuar ostentando a aura de partido popular.
É isso que explica, por exemplo, a presença do disciplinado Rui Falcão no comando formal da legenda. De vez em quando Falcão reúne a tropa, solta algumas palavras de ordem radicais, vocifera contra a “direita”, os “neoliberais”, a “mídia golpista” e vão todos para casa jubilosos de sua militância “revolucionária”.
Enquanto isso, a nomenklatura petista, refestelada nos altos gabinetes do partido e do governo, cultiva relações cada vez mais promíscuas com as lideranças políticas que combateu durante mais de 20 anos e conspira, nos bastidores do Congresso, para sufocar forças políticas que possam emergir na contramão de seus interesses eleitorais em 2014. 

Departamento de traducoes estramboticas, ao trabalho, por favor...

Duas peças recentes, que eu continuo tentando entender...

1) “Mas voltando desse parêntese, a destinação dos royalties do petróleo. Ela não é trivial. Eu enviei para o Congresso quando vetei a medida, aliás, vetei parte da Lei dos Portos, dos Portos não, dos Royalties, e era do Petróleo, que mudava os contratos para trás, em uma afirmação que o Brasil tem que respeitar contratos gostando dos contratos ou não, não é uma questão de vontade, é uma questão de respeito à lei. Porém esse processo está sub judice, e a MP que define essa parte, essa parte dos royalties que é royalties, participações… essa parte da lei, aliás royalties, participações especiais e os recursos do pré-sal, destina à educação… essa lei, ela está parada porque ela está sub judice. O Supremo Tribunal está avaliando essa questão, se é ou não é inconstitucional ou não”.

2) “Todos os países para caminharem e caminham mais rápido quando há consenso, quando se constrói consensos. Consenso é algo que tem que ser construído, então caminha melhor, caminha de forma mais pujante, caminha mobilizando a todos quando é capaz de construir consenso. Nós construímos a necessidade de consensos e eu vou falar sobre dois consensos que eu acredito que sejam fundamentais para o país”.

O pessoal que trabalha em interpretação simultânea já desistiu; os que transcrevem da linguagem oral para a escrita, também. Resta o setor de decifração de manuscritos medievais, o pessoal que conhece linguagem de sinais, os últimos tradutores de Código Morse, enfim, alguém precisa vir em nosso socorro para que possamos entender o que está acontecendo nos mais altos escalões do poder...
Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Postagem em destaque

Livro Marxismo e Socialismo finalmente disponível - Paulo Roberto de Almeida

Meu mais recente livro – que não tem nada a ver com o governo atual ou com sua diplomacia esquizofrênica, já vou logo avisando – ficou final...