When I wear my 'philosophy of economics' hat, I do philosophy of economics with an interest in the 'practice' of economists, (and with an unusually strong interest in the history of economics).* I do so in order to make philosophical claims about, among other things, decision theories or social ontology, the role and authority of economists as experts, or the political economy of science(s) and philosophy (in order, say, to be reflexive about philosophy). I have multiple, not always cohering aims for my stance: to tease out philosophical presuppositions of economics; to study and improve economic method(s); to 'help' economists articulate their own projects (yes, have done that!); to publish papers in journals, etc.
In addition to the philosophy-toolkit, I avail myself of sociological and historical methods in order to 'observe' economics (and its history). I study textbooks, journal articles, archives, notes, and a whole variety of practices, including economics blogs. In order to do so, I have cultivated a whole bunch of 'informants' within economics—some of them even let me silently 'sit in' (as a BCC) on debates and exchanges that economists have (say, between editors and referees; textbook authors and their critics, etc.).
There are a lot of reasons to cultivate such a network of 'informants.' Obviously, I am not a trained economist so it is often very useful to be able to ask an expert about what some arcane material really means; at other times it is useful to try out an interpretation on an informed critic. Moreover, economics is a very big discipline, and if I were to try to study it full-time, I would quickly be unable to be a professional philosopher (blogger, husband, etc.). Economists are hyper-specialized, and they, wisely, do not try to keep up with the whole disicipline. Having such 'informants' allows me to understand economists's conflicting perspectives on their activities, gain access to their specialist knowledge about their activities, generate leads, suggestions, etc. Obviously, the insights are very partial, but they are useful nonetheless.
One important, original philosophical reason for my research stance is that I hoped that one could do philosophy of economics precisely not by 'applying philosophy' (realism/anti-realism, etc.), but in order to develop questions and concepts from the 'ground up' in dialogue with working economists. My original 'inductivism' turns out to be naïve – because standard, professional economics is infused with philosophical commitments and images developed by earlier generations of philosophers. So, I encounter bits of philosophy, and images produced by philosophy, all the time when I engage with economics.
Now, I quickly learned that the economists-informants I would cultivate, would have some overlapping scholarly interests with my own research (e.g., Adam Smith, Chicago economics, research ethics, evidential arguments, etc.). If I had really thought about it all (I should have read up on anthropological self-reflection), I had tacitly assumed the following kind of gains from intellectual trade with my 'informants:'
- Schliesser would continue to be taught economics and understand the profession of economics;
- Schliesser would discover the 'philosophy in' economics;
- Maybe Schliesser would even learn something about (economic) reality!
- Schliesser would be the 'philosophy expert' and teach some philosophy, given that my informants probably would be biased favorably toward philosophy;
- Schliesser would teach Schliesser's philosophy of science—unlikely to happen, but one can always hope;
- Schliesser and his informants would explore shared history of economics/philosophy;
- Schliesser would shape ongoing intersections between philosophy and economics--yes, utopian, but why not think big?
All seven of these gains happened and are still happening (unless a blog like this puts an end to it), but something unexpected, and far more important, occurred along the way: how I think about philosophy and the history of philosophy changed (as regular readers know).
But here I want to note that my conception of trade also changed due to my experiences as philosopher of economics. We tend to think of trade as just an exchange of commodities – and it is often no more than that --, that do (or, depending on one's view, do not) satisfy some demand, some revealed preference, some utility (etc.). But this overlooks that we may also be transformed, in part, by (to use a Humean phrase) intellectual commerce. By trading with others we can, as an unintended side-consequence, acquire new perspectives or even new identities. The self that is constituted by certain preferences may over time change character as commodities change possession. For example, one way in which I was transformed is that I could not take the objectivity and disinterestedness of expertise for granted in my research; I came to recognize, for example, that I was no better than the experts I studied, and so I started down the slope of analytical egalitarianism, which provides a way to operationalize such reflexivity. Rather than seeing myself as independent of incentives – an autonomous sovereign over my own choices --, I started to recognize that I was constrained by, even partly constituted through, a whole network of – frequently shifting -- incentives and aspirations. And every time I try to map this network, I find myself edging toward a potentially infinite regress of hidden agents each using whatever conatus available to them to make me a co-conspirator in their ends.**
* There is a mission statement of the Society for Philosophy of Science in Practice that gives a useful indication of what I have in mind (of course with qualifications, etc.).
** Many thanks to Anna De Bruyckere, who commented on an earlier draft of these thoughts.
Comments