Emassfile 7332

The Palgrave Companion to Chicago
Economics Robert A Cord

Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-palgrave-companion-to-chicago-economics-robert
-a-cord/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...
The Palgrave Companion to Oxford Economics 1st Edition

Robert A. Cord (Editor)
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-palgrave-companion-to-oxford-
economics-1st-edition-robert-a-cord-editor/
The New Palgrave Dictionary of Economics Palgrave

Macmillan
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-new-palgrave-dictionary-of-
economics-palgrave-macmillan/
The Chicago Guide to Fact-Checking, (Chicago Guides to

Writing, Editing, and Publishing) 2nd Edition Brooke
Borel
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-chicago-guide-to-fact-checking-
chicago-guides-to-writing-editing-and-publishing-2nd-edition-
brooke-borel/
Prince of Chaos: A Chicago Underground Novel (The

Chicago Underground Book 1) Angie Cottingham
https://ebookmass.com/product/prince-of-chaos-a-chicago-
underground-novel-the-chicago-underground-book-1-angie-
cottingham/
A companion to curation Buckley
https://ebookmass.com/product/a-companion-to-curation-buckley/
The Palgrave Handbook of Global Sustainability Robert

Brinkmann
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-palgrave-handbook-of-global-
sustainability-robert-brinkmann/
The Palgrave Handbook of International Energy Economics

Manfred Hafner
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-palgrave-handbook-of-
international-energy-economics-manfred-hafner/
A Companion to Aeschylus Peter Burian
https://ebookmass.com/product/a-companion-to-aeschylus-peter-
burian/
The New Palgrave Dictionary of Economics 3rd Edition

Macmillan Publishers
https://ebookmass.com/product/the-new-palgrave-dictionary-of-
economics-3rd-edition-macmillan-publishers/
THE PALGRAVE
COMPANION TO
CHICAGO
ECONOMICS
Edited by Robert A. Cord

The Palgrave Companion to Chicago Economics
Robert A. Cord
Editor
The Palgrave
Companion to Chicago
Economics
Editor
Robert A. Cord
Researcher in Economics
London, UK
ISBN 978-3-031-01491-8 ISBN 978-3-031-01775-9 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-01775-9
© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature
Switzerland AG 2022
This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the
whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations,
recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or
information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does
not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective
laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are
believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors
give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions
that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps
and institutional affiliations.
This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG.
The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland
For Shirin, Andy, Ayesha and Ben
Contents
Part I Themes in Chicago Economics 1
1 The
Department of Economics at the University of Chicago,
1947–1982 3
Arnold C. Harberger and Sebastian Edwards
2 Economic
History in Departments of Economics: The Case
of the University of Chicago, 1892 to the Present 21
David Mitch
3 International
Economics at Chicago 55
Sebastian Edwards and Douglas A. Irwin
4 Chicago
Political Economy and Its Virginia Cousin 79
Richard E. Wagner
5 The
Cowles Commission at the University of Chicago,
1939–1955 103
Robert W. Dimand
6 I nformation at Chicago 123

Edward Nik-Khah
vii
viii Contents
Part II Some Chicago Economists 149
7 James
Laurence Laughlin (1850–1933) 151
Charles R. McCann, Jr. and Vibha Kapuria-Foreman
8 Th
orstein Veblen (1857–1929) 175
Wesley Clair Mitchell
9 Frank
H. Knight (1885–1972) 203
Ross B. Emmett
10 L
loyd W. Mints (1888–1989) 223
Samuel Demeulemeester
11 Paul
H. Douglas (1892–1976) 249
Bill Bergman
12 J acob Viner (1892–1970) 275

Arthur I. Bloomfield
13 H
enry Schultz (1893–1938) 325
Jim Thomas
14 Margaret
Gilpin Reid (1896–1991) 343
Evelyn L. Forget
15 Henry
Calvert Simons (1899–1946) 357
Sherry Davis Kasper
16 A
aron Director (1901–2004) 383
Robert Van Horn
17 Th
eodore W. Schultz (1902–1998) 401
Paul Burnett
18 Mary
Jean Bowman (1908–2002) 421
Pedro N. Teixeira
19 George
J. Stigler (1911–1991) 445
David M. Levy and Sandra J. Peart
Contents ix
20 M
ilton Friedman (1912–2006) 477
James Forder
21 Lloyd
A. Metzler (1913–1980) 515
Robert A. Cord
22 Berthold
F. Hoselitz (1913–1995) 545
David Mitch
23 H.
Gregg Lewis (1914–1992) 573
Daniel S. Hamermesh
24 D.
Gale Johnson (1916–2003) 595
Daniel A. Sumner
25 Albert
E. Rees (1921–1992) 635
Randall K. Filer
26 Merton
H. Miller (1923–2000) 653
Bruce D. Grundy
27 Harry
G. Johnson (1923–1977) 679
Michael B. Connolly
28 Arnold
C. Harberger (1924–) 695
William Dougan
29 G
eorge S. Tolley (1925–2021) 739
Glenn C. Blomquist, Richard V. Burkhauser,
and Donald S. Kenkel
30 R
obert W. Fogel (1926–2013) 773
Richard H. Steckel
31 A
rnold Zellner (1927–2010) 789
Franz C. Palm
32 Gary
S. Becker (1930–2014) 817
Pedro N. Teixeira
x Contents
33 Robert
E. Lucas, Jr. (1937–) 841
Pierrick Clerc and Michel De Vroey
34 S
herwin Rosen (1938–2001) 871
Kenneth J. McLaughlin
35 Richard
A. Posner (1939–) 901
Jean-Baptiste Fleury and Alain Marciano
36 Eugene
F. Fama (1939–) 925
G. William Schwert
37 James
J. Heckman (1944–) 939
Richard Blundell and Flávio Cunha
38 Richard
H. Thaler (1945–) 979
Alex Imas
39 Lars
Peter Hansen (1952–)1005
Jaroslav Borovička
N
otes on Contributors1057
I ndex1069
List of Figures
Figure 34.1 Compensating price differential 875

Figure 34.2 Compensating wage differential for schooling 887
xi
List of Tables
Table 2.1 Doctoral dissertations in economic history relative to doctoral

dissertations in economics at the University of Chicago,
1892–200628
Table 13.1 Henry Schultz’s publications, 1923–1939 334
Table 21.1 Summary of effects of income transfer in the two-country model 520
Table 22.2 Summary of possible income movements in the n-country system 520
Table 23.1 Google Scholar citations to Lewis’s works 574
Table 23.2 Determinants of familiarity with Lewis’s name and contributions 576
Table 31.1 Forecast RMSEs and MAEs for Aggregate (A) and Disaggregated
(DA) models using currency as the money variable (percentage
points). Aggregate forecasts: 1952–1979 ⇒ 1980–1997: Real
income Yt (real GDP) 804
Table 31.2 Forecast RMSEs and MAEs for Aggregate (A) and
Disaggregated (DA) models using currency as the money
variable (percentage points). Disaggregated forecasts:
1952–1979 ⇒ 1980–1997 (OLS) (using MMM(A)
reduced form equations to forecast real income and real wage
rate growth) 804
Table 33.1 Friedman and Lucas under the lens of the Marshall-Walras divide 863
Table 34.1 Rosen’s most-cited papers 872
xiii
Introduction
These two volumes are about the economics and economists associated with
the University of Chicago. They are the fourth in a series to be published by
Palgrave examining the many and varied contributions made by important
centres of economics. With only a very few exceptions, the focus of most his-
tory of economic thought studies, at least in terms of books,1 has been on
schools of thought. Such an approach provides valuable insights into how
competing schools interact and how some come to predominate, for whatever
reason and length of time, while others fall out of fashion or indeed never
attain any particular notoriety. However, a key deficiency of such a modus
operandi is that it often fails to illuminate the many processes and tensions
that can and do occur at the level of the individual university, the personnel
of which may be fighting internal battles for supremacy whilst at the same
time trying to establish external hegemony.
Each volume in the series consists of two parts. The first contains a set of
chapters which consider the contributions made by a centre where these con-
tributions are considered to be especially important, this subject to a mixture
of personal preferences and soundings from those who know better. The sec-
ond, longer part is made up of chapters discussing the contributions of indi-
vidual economists attached to a particular centre. ‘Attached’ is the crucial
word. Some economists are easy to identify with a single institution as they
may, for example, have spent their whole academic careers at it. Those who
have moved from institution to institution are the more difficult case. One
way forward in these instances is to place an economist in the institution
1
Articles are of course another matter.
xvi Introduction
where they carried out their most important work, although this, in its turn,
carries with it the danger of disagreement over what ‘their most important
work’ was or is perceived to be and how this has changed over time. Another
factor perhaps worthy of consideration is an economist’s education. Where
such an education has been received at the knee of a master, to what extent has
this influenced the subsequent work of the noted pupil and how should this
be considered when that pupil has flown the nest and settled at another insti-
tution? Issues of leadership style, discipleship, loyalty, access to publication
outlets and to financing also enter the frame. Finally, there are issues of prac-
ticality, including space constraints and unavailability of contributors, among
others. Given this matrix of possibilities, disagreement about who should be
in which volume is inevitable. However, I hope that the outrage will not be
too great given the overarching goal of the series.
The next volume in the series will examine Harvard University.
Robert A. Cord
Part I
Themes in Chicago Economics
1
The Department of Economics
at the University of Chicago, 1947–1982
Arnold C. Harberger and Sebastian Edwards
1 Introduction1
This chapter is about the Department of Economics at the University of
Chicago, as seen by one of its long-term faculty members—Arnold
C. Harberger—and one of its former students, Sebastian Edwards. The period
covered is from 1947 through 1982. That is, 35 years that span from the time
Harberger arrived as a student to the time Edwards graduated with a PhD. A
few years later, in 1984, the two co-authors were reunited, this time as col-
leagues, at UCLA. The approach that we have decided to follow is somewhat
unusual: the chapter has the form of a conversation between two people from
different generations, two colleagues and friends, two professional economists
who have travelled together around the world providing advice to govern-
ments on almost every continent.
Of course, we played very different roles in the Department. Harberger was
a faculty member for over 30 years and Chairman for 12 years. He was a
colleague of some of the most famous economists of the second half of the
1
We thank Alejandra Cox for comments and suggestions.
A. C. Harberger
Department of Economics, UCLA, Los Angeles, CA, USA
e-mail: harberger@econ.ucla.edu
S. Edwards (*)
The Anderson Graduate School of Management, UCLA, Los Angeles, CA, USA
e-mail: sebastian.edwards@anderson.ucla.edu
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 3

R. A. Cord (ed.), The Palgrave Companion to Chicago Economics,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-01775-9_1
4 A. C. Harberger and S. Edwards
twentieth century and early decades of the twentieth-first, and hired many of
them. After four years as a student, Edwards went to UCLA, where he has
spent most of his career. He looked at Chicago from afar, but always with
great interest, not only because of the links established during his period
there, but also because of the role that some Chicago economists—the so-
called Chicago Boys—played in Latin American economic reforms, including
in his native Chile.2
We have labelled the approach “a conversation” for two reasons: First, we
know each other too well for it to be a simple interview. Second, in 2016,
Harberger finished taping an “Oral History” (Harberger 2016), which covers
in significant detail most of his life, including episodes related to the
Department. Of course, conversations can take many forms. In this one, we
have proceeded as follows: Edwards suggests a topic, and Harberger talks
about it; Edwards interrupts, and disagrees, and Harberger replies—some-
times he insists on his point of view, at other times he offers a variation on the
subject. In selecting the themes for the conversation, Edwards often relies on
previous exchanges and late night chats between the two of them that took
place over many years in places as different as Jakarta, Managua, Buenos Aires,
Moscow, Washington, D.C., and Tegucigalpa.
Thousands of pages have been written about the Department of Economics
at Chicago.3 Some works have been celebratory and others have been critical;
some have been deep, and others have been superficial. Because of this abun-
dance of material, we have tried to focus on aspects of the Department that
have not generally been highlighted in existing work. This means that some of
the most often discussed issues in the existing literature will not be covered in
detail (or will not be covered at all), while some lesser-known ones will be
emphasised.
The various discussions that led to this article took place over several
months in Los Angeles, California, during the time of COVID, with visits to
each other’s homes and behind masks. Most of it, but not all, has been taped.
However, even when the tape recorder was on, Edwards took copious notes,
which completely filled a notebook. Sometimes, Harberger would visit
Edwards and vice versa. The conversation is not organised in a chronological
way; it is structured around topics. In order to keep things on track, we have
made an effort to clarify what happened when and who was involved in the
different episodes being narrated. The chapter deals with ideas, professional
2
For the “Chicago Boys” and the Chilean market reforms, see Edwards and Edwards (1991) and
Edwards (2010).
3
This includes memoirs by some of its leading members; see Friedman and Friedman (1998) and
Stigler (2003).
1 The Department of Economics at the University of Chicago… 5
debates, controversies and people. In order to make it easier to read, we have

resorted to a tried-and-tested technique: Harberger’s (denoted ACH) words
are in non-italics and Edwards’ (denoted SE) are in italics.
2 The Department in the 1940s and 1950s:

The Fourth and Fifth Floors
SE: You enrolled in the Department of Economics in the fall of 1947, after
having spent a year studying international relations at the University of
Chicago. In this segment I would like to talk about two issues. First, the
general atmosphere in the Department, as seen from the perspective of a
graduate student. Second, I’d like to talk about the faculty in 1947. At
the time, the Department had a large number of very prominent mem-
bers, including some credited as having founded the “First Chicago
School”. People like Frank Knight, Lloyd Mints, Henry Simons, and
others. Also, Milton Friedman had just arrived as a faculty member, in
1946. At the same time, some very well-known scholars had recently left,
including Jacob Viner who went to Princeton, Paul Douglas who became
Senator for Illinois, and Oskar Lange who went on to have a distin-
guished career in communist Poland. So, the topic I’d like you to address
is simple: How was the Department when you joined? From today’s per-
spective, what do you think were the most salient characteristics of the
place? And, at the time, how was it different from other leading depart-
ments such as Harvard and Yale?
ACH: In 1947, there were lots of students, but it really did not feel crowded.
It was very exciting and to us it was clear that it was a special place. The
fact that the Cowles Commission was there added to the sense that
this was a unique place. I was hired as a research assistant at Cowles in
March 1949 and I shared an office with Stanley Reiter, who ended up
having a very distinguished career at Northwestern.
SE: What kind of research were you doing at Cowles? And how did it fit with
the general work being done at the Commission?
ACH: I was working on problems related to endogeneity in the estimation
of supply and demand curves. And I was interested in the subject
because of the controversy surrounding the elasticities of import and
export, and the way in which they determined whether a currency
devaluation would be effective or not. The question was determining
exogeneity, and lots of people were interested in it. There was a differ-
ence in emphasis. For me, it was sufficient when working on an

applied problem that the correlation was small enough, as to mini-
mise the simultaneity bias. Tjalling Koopmans, on the other hand,
insisted that there should be zero correlation; the variables had to be
orthogonal. Koopmans at the time was either running the Commission
or about to take over.
SE: Well, this seems to have been work related to the so-called elasticities pes-
simism controversy. In a sense, if elasticities were too small, then a very
important element in the market system would not work properly, as
devaluations or changes in the price of foreign currency would be ineffec-
tive. Did you see your work at the time as related, in any way, to Milton
Friedman’s crusade for flexible exchange rates? Well, Friedman was not
the only one at Chicago. Lloyd Mints had also written in favour of flex-
ible rates.
ACH: Quite a few people at the time were working on similar problems.
Lloyd Metzler was also interested in the subject of exchange rates
and adjustment, including issues related to international transfers.
But I would not say that there was explicit coordination among the
different people. My work was in no way part of Milton’s crusade.
SE: So tell me more about your disagreements with Koopmans.
ACH: Koopmans was a very good economist, and a very good human
being. I remember his modesty and his interest in looking at the
world from different perspectives. But we had occasional disagree-
ments. At an American Economic Association (AEA) meeting I pre-
sented a paper and he was the discussant. He was very critical, and
accused me of building a second story of a house that had no base-
ment, or foundations. Paul Samuelson, who was chairing the ses-
sion, came in my defence, and gave a ten-minute speech, where he
basically agreed with me.
SE: And which paper was this?
ACH: “The Measurement of Waste”, which was eventually published in the
American Economic Review (Harberger 1964).
SE: When you were there, did you and your fellow students think that you
were part of a distinctive school, the “First Chicago School”?
ACH: As I said, we realised that we were in a very special place. But I am
not sure that we thought that this constituted a “School”.
SE: Some people have said that the Chicago School started with Frank
Knight and from him different branches spurred out: Henry Simons,
Milton Friedman, George Stigler. Some people say that what made it
operational was Milton’s monetary analyses, plus Viner’s and Friedman’s
price theory, and George Stigler’s and Ronald Coase’s views on externali-
ties, regulatory capture, and transaction costs.
ACH: If one talks about the existence of a “Chicago School”, one also needs
to talk about T.W. Schultz. He was incredibly influential, very talented,
and a great economist. He and D. Gale Johnson ran an extremely pres-
tigious agricultural economics programme at Chicago. When I think of
the Chicago School, I think of three principles: theory is of utmost
importance, and should guide economic thinking; theoretical con-
structs should be confronted with the real world, they should be tested,
there should be a lot of data analysis; and when in doubt, always come
back to fundamental price theory, to the functioning of markets.
SE: When you came to Chicago in 1947, Frank Knight was still a member
of the faculty. Was he revered and admired by everyone?
ACH: Well, I would say yes. He was on the Committee on Social Thought.
He was a member of both the Department and the Committee. And
his office was adjacent to the Committee, on the fifth floor, and not
adjacent to the bulk of the Department on the fourth floor. So, we
didn’t see that much of him in the halls and corridors.
SE: Did you take classes from Frank Knight?
ACH: I took every class from Frank Knight. I have a joke about him. He
had a house on Kimbark Street, across the Midway, and this house
had an attic. And I pictured that his attic contained a huge barrel,
and in this barrel were written all kind of aphorisms—one-liners so
to speak—and every time he had to make a speech he would go up
there and he would crank the barrel and get one draw, and another
draw, and so on. So, after a while there was nothing you ever heard
from Frank Knight that you hadn’t heard before, but you hadn’t
heard it quite the same way.
SE: Did Frank Knight teach Price Theory, the famous 301 course, the course
that at one point or another was taught by Viner, Milton, Gary Becker,
Sherwin Rosen, and yourself among others?
ACH: I don’t think so.
SE: Which courses did you take from him?
ACH: I don’t remember the numbers, but a history of thought course,
maybe more than one.
SE: Who else besides Frank Knight represented the old generation when you
arrived in Chicago as a student?
ACH: Well, Lloyd Mints. Lloyd Mints is very underappreciated. I went
back to his notes, and he taught monetary economics from the fact
that prices of international goods, as he called them, were deter-
mined in international markets. And the doings in this country

didn’t have to do with that. They had to do with the exchange rate,
and the balance of payments and things like that. He was far more
subtle, far better than what he was given credit for.
SE: I think that Mints is making somewhat of a comeback in the history of
thought community.
ACH: That’s well deserved in my opinion. And to me, he got undervalued
because he didn’t publish. He published on banking theory, which I
believe was his dissertation. And beyond that, it’s hard to find pieces
by Mints. And, it’s a shame in a way.
SE: Who else comes to mind from those years, besides Knight and Mints?
ACH: John U. Nef. He was on the fifth floor as well, as a member of the
Committee on Social Thought. And he belonged there, in the sense
that he viewed economics from a broader perspective than the rest of
the Department. The rest of the Department were “tools oriented”,
supply, demand, and the forces of inflation, and that kind of thing.
And Nef was just sui generis. He would come and read his lecture to
you. And these lectures were all organised, and written out, and so
on. I have this imitation of him. From time to time he would pause
and say: “As Gustav Schmoller, the very famous German economic
historian from the nineteenth century once said to his classes in
Berlin, ‘Es ist alles so furchtbar kompliziert!’, which translated means ‘It
is all so terribly complicated!’” And that is a quote from John U. Nef.
Verbatim!
SE: Did you take a class from Henry Simons?
ACH: No, I did not. And that is an interesting story. In the spring of 1946
I still had not transferred officially from international relations to
economics, but I was already taking quite a few classes in the
Department. I tried to enrol in Simons’ course. But during the first
meeting he said that he wanted to restrict the course to those stu-
dents who were already writing a dissertation or were about to begin
one. I was not in that group yet, so I could not take his class. And, at
the end of the quarter he committed suicide.
SE: Let me go back to the fifth floor of the Social Sciences building. Your last
year as a student was Friedrich Hayek’s first year at Chicago. And he was
a member of the Committee on Social Thought, so he was up there on a
different floor, with Knight, Nef and others. And when you came back as
a member of the faculty in 1953, he was still there. Hayek left Chicago
in 1964, so you were colleagues for about ten years. Did you interact
with Hayek?
ACH: No.
SE: Not at all? He didn’t come to the workshops?
ACH: No. He had his own group, and there was almost no interaction
between him and the members of the Department, as far as I remem-
ber. He never came to the regular workshops.
SE: You didn’t talk to him?
ACH: Not really.
3 The Workshops System

SE: Tell me how you ended up joining the faculty at Chicago? How did it
happen? You were an Assistant Professor at Hopkins and you got an offer
to go to Chicago. Tell me the details of that story. As I remember it, it is
in some ways related to the famous Chicago workshops system.
ACH: T.W. Schultz read my projections on the demand for materials for
the year 1975, and decided that I was the man for public finance at
Chicago. In that work, I created an image of the 1975 economy,
with so many automobiles, and so many washing machines, and so
many refrigerators, and so much this, and so much that. And from
that I derived the demand for materials. This was very distinct from
running a regression and forecasting forward. You can see how ter-
rible job a regression would do. I don’t think it’s the right way, any-
way. The reason had to do with history: going back you had the
1920s and the Great Depression and the war, and then inflation.
There was no point in using regressions.
SE: Had you taken a formal public finance course at Chicago as a student?
ACH: Yes. That was the only B I got in economics. The professor was Roy
Blough, who had been a Treasury official, and the Teaching Assistant
was Jim Buchanan. In a way, it was funny that I would come back to
Chicago and be in charge of the field where I got my only B.
SE: The public finance workshop, which you ran, was very famous in the
1950s and 1960s. It attracted lots of students, including people like Bob
Lucas and many Latin American students. So, tell me, when did the
workshops start, and what was so special about them?
ACH: Well, the workshops started with Milton. And agricultural econom-
ics, with T.W. Schultz and D. Gale Johnson; that was effectively a
workshop, whether you call it that or not. And that was alive and
well, and strong and powerful. And when I came to Chicago in 53,
Schultz practically forced me to have a workshop in public finance.
And this was because he and Milton were looking for funding from
the Rockefeller Foundation for workshops in general. The idea was
that workshops were good, that this was a start. Here was a new fac-
ulty member, and why not get him started on the right track. So, I
was hardly given an option.
SE: So, tell me in what way was the public finance workshop different?
ACH: It was different from Milton’s in the sense that I gave much more
freedom to people, and so I had very good students, you know.
Gregory Chow, Dick Muth, Bob Lucas, among others.
SE: Someone told me that most of the Latin American students arrived about
20 minutes late to the workshop. And that that became a regular feature
of it. Is that true?
ACH: Yes, that’s true. Always a little late.
SE: Was Finis Welch, the labour economist, your student?
ACH: No. He was a card playing buddy. We played bridge.
4 Fortress Chicago
SE: When I arrived as a graduate student, in 1977, my classmates and I had
no doubt that we were in a special place, in a unique institution. We also
knew that we were in a place that was populated by people with very
strong points of view regarding the functioning of markets, the role of
monetary policy, the causes of inflation, and the limitations of fine-
tuning. We also had the feeling that intellectually we were besieged, that
the “Chicago view” was a minority view. We did not dislike this. In fact,
I think that many of my classmates liked it; we considered ourselves as
being in what I would call “Fortress Chicago”. In many ways, we thought
that it was a fortress built around Milton Friedman and his views. What
are your thoughts about this? How did you feel as a m ember of the fac-
ulty, and earlier, as a graduate student, about the notion that Chicago
was almost on its own defending certain principles?
ACH: I resist very much the idea that Chicago was basically a sounding
board for Friedman. In point of fact, we had as many people voting
Democratic as voting Republican. The thing is that the other leading
departments (MIT, Harvard and Yale) had mostly Democrats. It’s
not that we were predominantly Republican; we had some, and they
didn’t have any (or had very few), so to speak. The question is: What
determines the Chicago School? My belief was that the Chicago
School meant believing that market forces were extremely important
in determining how things worked out in the real world, and there
was no one at Chicago who disagreed with that principle.
SE: Let me push you on this: Our sense in the late 1970s—this is just when
the “rational expectations” revolution was taking hold—was that there
was only a handful of schools with majority views similar to those domi-
nant at Chicago: UCLA, Rochester, maybe Carnegie. At the policy level,
there was the St Louis FED monetary model, but not a lot more. Given
this situation, how would you characterise relations between faculty
members in the top schools?
ACH: In Cambridge and particularly at MIT, and within MIT, Paul
Samuelson and Bob Solow, made snide remarks about Chicago, and
especially about Milton Friedman’s attitude and interests, and I
would say there was a kind of belief that we were all kind of clones
of Friedman. This, of course, was not true, and certainly not true of
Ted Schultz, Harry Johnson, D. Gale Johnson, Bob Mundell. There
makes no sense of talking about clones, knowing the personalities of
the people involved. But the outside view was that most of us were,
at least partially, Miltonian clones. I would say that Milton didn’t
want to have only people like him in the Department. In the appoint-
ment process he liked diversity.
SE: Was Milton Friedman liked by his colleagues? Did the other faculty
members like him?
ACH: I have the feeling that the answer is “Yes, but…”. Certainly, Harry
Johnson had a hard time with Milton. I don’t know if he wanted to
have as much lustre around him as came around Milton; it might be
that. Harry’s economics were close to Milton, but not by any means
as doctrinaire, so to speak, as Milton’s.
5 Partial Versus General Equilibrium

SE: One of the common criticisms of Chicago during the 1950s and 1960s
was that the type of economics practised by Milton Friedman and George
Stigler, just to mention two people, was nothing more than glorified par-
tial equilibrium analysis based on Marshall. This criticism came, mostly,
from people like Samuelson, Tobin and Solow. What is your reaction to
this idea?
ACH: Well, I always had a very good relationship with Samuelson and a
pretty good relation with Tobin. And general equilibrium was pres-
ent in most of my work.
SE: Yes, your “Incidence of the Corporation Income Tax” (Harberger 1962)
and your “Three Numeraires” (Harberger 1974) papers are great exam-
ples of general equilibrium.
ACH: I think that in my own case, my grounding on trade was serious, and
trade leads you to global general equilibrium analysis of a manage-
able sort, rather than of an n-equations and n-unknowns sort.
SE: Let me stay with Samuelson. What was the origin of your good relations
with him?
ACH: As I noted, it originated with my paper “The Measurement of Waste”,
in an AEA meeting in the 1950s. Koopmans was the discussant and
he berated me for having built on the second story without having a
strong first story. And Samuelson, who was the chairman at the ses-
sion, took ten minutes to put Koopmans down.
SE: Let me try to dig some more on Samuelson, Chicago and you. There is a
long passage in Samuelson’s Foundations (1947) where he criticises the
concept of “consumer surplus”, which is very central to a lot of your work.
It also plays important roles in work by Friedman, Stigler, Johnson.
Another concept that has been criticised due to a “lack of general equilib-
rium properties” is effective rates of protection. This concept is also associ-
ated with Chicago, through Johnson’s work on protection and tariffs. I
personally find “effective protection” to be a very useful concept.
ACH: Yes. And Samuelson in some ways impeded the advancement of
“consumer surplus economics” for 20 or 30 years because of what
there was in Foundations. But consumer surplus is, and always has
been, a valid concept. So is effective protection. They are particularly
useful when we talk about intermediate goods and inputs, and the
cost of the protective structure.
6 Governance of the Department

SE: The impression one gets looking back is that during those years [1960s
and 1970s] the Department was very small, and very well run. Tell me
a little bit about the governance, the way in which the faculty interacted
with each other, the role played by junior faculty, and relations with
other parts of the University.
ACH: I think that the fact that there were very few chairmen is important.
From 1945 to the mid-1980s there were only four chairmen. Albert
Rees ran the Department for three years. The rest of the time the
chairmen were Ted Schultz, D. Gale Johnson, and myself.
SE: Overall, you were chairman for 12 years, probably one of the longest, if
not the longest, maybe only comparable to James Laughlin. How were
relations among the faculty? Was it hierarchical? Or was it pretty much
horizontal?
ACH: Governance was much more democratic than at Harvard or Yale,
mostly because of the small numbers of faculty. Never more than 25,
while Harvard and Yale probably had 45 or so. Junior members
spoke up frequently and freely.
SE: Any regrets about letting people go? Someone you should have kept?
ACH: Marc Nerlove in a sense. He went to Minnesota, then Rochester,
then Maryland, if I remember correctly.
SE: What was your biggest conflict as chairman?
ACH: What I remember is not a conflict, but an embarrassing situation,
related to an appointment in public finance. I wanted to bring a very
distinguished member of the field, and had spoken to him about
joining the Department. He looked at the possibility in a very posi-
tive way. But when we took the vote, I was surprised to find out that
there was a large group who opposed him, mostly junior faculty.
There were enough “no” votes, so I thought maybe we should take a
second vote. But the second time it came in even more negative. It
was very embarrassing, but to my delight my friendship with this
scholar remained intact.
SE: You once told me about the conflict that emerged between Hans Theil
and Arnold Zellner. If I remember correctly, this story also involved the
Business School, whose Dean at the time was George Shultz.
ACH: Yes, the Theil-Zellner conflict was deep and serious. The curious
thing is that we got Arnold Zellner, mostly because Hans Theil
wanted him to join the faculty. So here comes Zellner, Theil’s favou-
rite, and once he arrives he begins to behave like an equal. Theil, who
came from the highly hierarchical European tradition, just couldn’t
take that. And in the end we had this terrible period where the
econometric prelim once a year would contain Theil, and once a year
would contain Zellner, but never contained both Theil and Zellner.
Not even George Shultz, with his enormous negotiating skills, could
solve the impasse. Theil ultimately quit Chicago and went to Florida,
where he was probably treated like the professor that he expected to
be treated.
SE: Going back to the Department chairmanship. Did you have a problem
with Harry Johnson splitting his time between LSE and Chicago, and
later between Geneva and Chicago? It’s been rumoured that there was a
problem later on with other faculty who wanted to split their time
between Chicago and another department. So, did you have any misgiv-
ings or conflict with Harry?
ACH: Harry Johnson was a very prominent and important figure. We were
very happy to have half of Harry’s time. But we did not want that
option to be spread; we did not want that to become a common
practice. So, generally, we didn’t allow this from other faculty.
SE: Did you make an effort to retain Bob Mundell when he said he was
going to Canada?
ACH: I feel that that was, in a sense, a no-brainer. Bob was of the idea that
he was going to set up in Canada a centre for international studies,
where he would draw people from all over the world. And this was a
dream in his mind. I don’t remember what kind of counter-offer we
made, or even if we did make one. Because he was dead set on having
this experiment. And when it didn’t work out he went to Columbia.
7
Journal of Political Economy (JPE)
SE: What was the JPE’s role in the life of the Department, if any? The JPE
had a life of its own, I assume.
ACH: The editorial team always included members of the Department, as
well as members from the Business School. But we didn’t have
Department meetings about the JPE.
SE: Were you ever attracted to the JPE? Did you want to become an editor?
There were some members of the faculty—I can think of Harry Johnson,
Bob Mundell, Jacob Frenkel—that loved that position. I know that you
were never an editor. Did you ever consider it?
ACH: Never! I would much rather be chairman than editor of the JPE.
SE: Why? Many people would find that a surprising answer. Running the
JPE is an incredibly influential position.
ACH: Well, it doesn’t go with my personality. Very early on I realised that
refereeing was extremely time intensive for me. It took me many,
many hours to go through a paper. Thus, editing the Journal was not
the optimal allocation of my time.
8 People
SE: To me, an interesting thing about Chicago is that so many faculty mem-
bers were, or became, household names, the greatest example, of course,
being Milton Friedman. But there were also many great scholars that
were completely unknown to the general public, even to policy makers.
So, let me read you some names of people that were in the faculty when I
was a student, or earlier, and give me your impression about them. Let’s
start with Lester Telser.
ACH: At some point there was an “attack” by Hopkins on Chicago, and
offers went out to Carl Christ, Lester Telser, and myself. And the end
result was that Christ went to Hopkins, I stayed on, and Telser, I
believe, shifted from the Business School to the Department. That is
my recollection. I believe that this was in the mid-1960s.
SE: Tell me about Arcadius Kahan. (That was the only B I got as a graduate
student at Chicago!)
ACH: Arcadius was a wonderful person, a very careful economic historian.
His book on the economic history of Russia is a classic. He spent
time in a concentration camp. He was very close to D. Gale Johnson,
and D. Gale respected him greatly.
SE: Let’s talk about Margaret Reid. I didn’t get to meet her during my time
at Chicago. Of course, I saw her all the time, always carrying a pile of
books with statistical data (or so it seemed to me).
ACH: She was a regular and valued member of the Department. She taught
consumer economics. She was a key person with T.W. Schultz in
Iowa, and he, quite wisely, brought her and D. Gale with him when
he moved to Chicago. And Milton gave her a certain amount of
credit in his “permanent income hypothesis”. For a number of years,
she was a key person at Chicago, and she carried her own weight, so
to speak.
SE: What about George Tolley?
ACH: George was a good economist, a more than an occasional wheel in
the agricultural side. He complemented T.W. Schultz and D. Gale
Johnson. And he carved out for himself the field of urban econom-
ics; he had a very respectable reputation among people in that field.
He had a quiet personality.
SE: Let’s now close this section with Larry Sjaastad. And, before you say any-
thing, I want to make a relevant point: Larry was on 134 dissertation
committees. That is an amazing number. He didn’t publish much, but
just being on all those committees is a major contribution. In terms of

economics, and in particular on the merits of fixed exchange rates in a
disinflation process, I had great disagreements with him. But I am still
amazed by his role on all of those committees.
ACH: Yes, Larry’s advice was sought by many thesis writers. He was depend-
able and helpful. On his exchange rates views he was influenced by
Mundell and later by Harry Johnson. I always thought that the pre-
ferred exchange rate regime depended on the nature of the country’s
exports, or sources of foreign exchange. In Panama it’s the Canal,
and it’s a very stable flow. So having a super peg rate makes sense. In
Chile, with copper being the main export, it doesn’t make much
sense to have a rigid exchange rate.
9 Teaching
SE: Let’s talk about teaching now. When I arrived as a student in 1977, the
entering class was about 60. And the graduating class, those who got a
PhD, was 12 or 15. The 60 entering class was a very unusual number
for a top programme. The entering class at MIT, Harvard or Yale was
about 15, almost the same number as those who graduated at Chicago.
So let me start with the following question: How large was the entering
class when you arrived in Chicago as a student?
ACH: We had about 200 graduate students in economics when I was there
because we had all the people from the war. People from 41, 42, 43,
44 and 45, and we were all being financed by the GI Bill of Rights.
So, we got our $75 a month, and if you got a fellowship—it didn’t
matter which one—you only got another $25. So $75 from the gov-
ernment plus $25 from the University, $100. And that was enough
at the time, before too much inflation.
SE: And when you came back as faculty in 1953, how large was the enter-
ing class?
ACH: About 60, I am guessing.
SE: So the tradition of having a very large entering class—as the one I had—
went way back?
ACH: Right.
SE: You once told me that at Chicago there was the view that a Master’s
degree was an earned degree, a useful degree for professional economists
that would do good work in government. It was a genuine degree, it was
not a consolation prize for those who didn’t pass the core exam. That was
different from other top programmes.
ACH: Well, we made a bit of fun of Harvard and Yale because they practi-
cally guaranteed that every entrant would get a PhD. And we thought
that that was for the birds! On the other hand, I think that two-
thirds of the people who entered Chicago had the capacity to get the
PhD, and two-thirds of them actually got the PhD.
SE: Another characteristic of the teaching programme that made it special
was that during the first year every core course was taught twice, by dif-
ferent faculty. For instance, I took the Price Theory courses (301 and
302) twice: From Gary Becker (301 and 302), and from you (301) and
Sherwin Rosen (302). Same with macro. I took 331 and 332 from Bob
Lucas, and a different version of 331 from Don Patinkin, who was visit-
ing from the Hebrew University at the time, and 332 from Jacob Frenkel,
who taught a very thorough open economy version of macro, tailored
after Mundell’s course.
ACH: And, did you find it worthwhile taking the same course twice?
SE: Totally. I benefitted from different perspectives, different emphases, dif-
ferent points of view, different reading lists, different personalities. Was
this architecture, so to speak, of two versions of the core courses offered
every year, done on purpose? And if so, what was the reason?
ACH: I think that the idea of there being two came about because of the
glut that followed the Second World War. There would not have
been two 301s and two 302s if it hadn’t been for this glut. And when
the entrance of 100 students tapered off, we chose to have an enter-
ing class of 60, and that also justified teaching two of each core
course per year.
10 The “Chicago Boys”

SE: Now that we are talking about students, maybe this is the time to talk
about the “Chicago Boys”. A lot has been written, and there was a docu-
mentary. So, maybe we should cover aspects of the Chicago Boys that are
not that well known. So, let me start with some background: the
“Friedman and Pinochet” controversy was huge, and you were affected
by it. There was that “Inquiry Commission” by Chicago students—
mostly undergraduates, I think—that made a lot of noise, and also tar-
geted you. During that discussion, Friedman repeatedly said that he
didn’t know much about Chile, and that although he did meet for about
an hour with Pinochet, he never advised the government. He added that

his personal relations with Chilean students were almost nonexistent; he
sat in only one dissertation committee for a student from Chile. He later
got to know some of the Chicago Boys, but he never developed a close
relationship. On the other hand, some of the faculty embraced the Latin
Americans and became quite close with them. Gregg Lewis, Larry
Sjaastad, Harry Johnson, Bob Mundell and, of course, yourself. So, here
is my question: Was there ever any pushback by the faculty about having
so many Latin American students?
ACH: I don’t think so because they were so good. I never found any objec-
tions to our policy of admissions of Latinos and I was, in fact, very
proud of the fact that we really knew which were the good places,
and who were the good teachers that recommended students. To
mention some: Tucumán, two or three places in Buenos Aires, in
Santiago—both the Catholic and the national universities—and
ITAM in Mexico. We were very satisfied with the quality of the stu-
dents that we got.
SE: Many of your Latin students ended up holding positions of great respon-
sibility in Latin America. There has been at least one president—Nicolás
Ardito Barletta in Panama—plus many cabinet members and central
bank governors. I remember once when Argentina was about to name a
new central bank head. The outgoing person was a student of yours
(Pedro Pou) and the two candidates were also former students, “Chicago
Boys” (Roque Fernandez and Mario Blejer). How do you feel about this
whole thing?
ACH: Well, of course, it is a source of great pride and satisfaction. But, in
addition to the big names, a large number of our students worked as
professional economists, making sure that good policies were put in
place. In that regard, the whole area of project evaluation was very
important. And not only in Latin America, but also in places
like Canada.
SE: Did the other members of the faculty value the fact that many of the
Latin students went into government, instead of academia?
ACH: I think so.
SE: When I was a student at Chicago in the late 1970s and early 1980s
there were two groups of international students that dominated the for-
eign group: Latinos and Israelis.
ACH: Yes. But the Israeli group was much smaller.
SE: True, but the point I want to make is that there was an overlap there.
There were quite a few Argentine and Uruguayans that had done their
undergraduate work in Israel, either at Hebrew or at Tel Aviv. People

like Mario Blejer, Leo Leiderman, Pablo Spiller. So tell me a bit about
the Israel connection, in general. As I said, I took my first macro course
from Don Patinkin, who was visiting. At that time, many Israeli profes-
sors spent some time in the US where salaries were much higher. As the
chairman, did you look at Israel to attract visitors?
ACH: I think that the situation was very individual. Certainly, we didn’t
make a list of Israeli professors who were about to take sabbatical,
and discuss which ones we should try to get. It came in different
ways. Patinkin wanted to come to Chicago, and we were very happy
to have him, so we got him. Same thing with Yair Mundlak,
and others.
11 The Advantage of the Chicago Department

SE: Maybe we should end with a peroration of sorts, with a summary of
what you see as the great advantage of the Chicago Department during
the years we have been talking about. How would you summarise this
advantage?
ACH: A clear advantage was that, among the leading departments, it was
smaller; it was only half, or less, than Harvard and Yale. Hence, just
about every professor at Chicago was not a supernumerary, everyone
was important in his or her own field. The range that we had, from
Milton, Harry Johnson, Bob Mundell, T.W. Schultz, John U. Nef,
Jim Heckman. Everybody was a real leading person. Because of the
size, the number of people responsible for a field was small, and that
allowed us, for instance, to have Harry Johnson and Mundell in
international, at the same time. So, it was a great Department. Now,
our small size had to do with the fact that the University of Chicago
didn’t have the great mass of undergraduates that other schools had.
At the end, I think that we go back to my three points discussed
above. The Chicago School was about the connection between the-
ory and applied analysis. Always test the implications of the theory,
confront data with predictions, and do it again and again. Take both
theory and data seriously.
References
Edwards, S. (2010). Left Behind: Latin America and the False Promise of Populism.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Edwards, S. and A.C. Edwards (1991). Monetarism and Liberalization: The Chilean
Experiment. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Friedman, M. and R.D. Friedman (1998). Two Lucky People: Memoirs. Chicago:
University of Chicago Press.
Harberger, A.C. (1962). ‘The Incidence of the Corporation Income Tax’. Journal of
Political Economy, 70(3): 215–240.
Harberger, A.C. (1964). ‘The Measurement of Waste’. American Economic Review,
Papers and Proceedings, 54(3): 58–76.
Harberger, A.C. (1974). ‘The Case of the Three Numeraires’. Chapter 6 in
W. Sellekaerts (ed.) Economic Development & Planning: Essays in Honour of Jan
Tinbergen. London: Palgrave Macmillan 142–156.
Harberger, A.C. (2016). ‘Sense and Economics: An Oral History with Arnold
C. Harberger’. Oral History Center, The Bancroft Library, University of California,
Berkeley, California. Available at: https://digitalassets.lib.berkeley.edu/roho/ucb/
text/harberger_arnold_2016.pdf.
Samuelson, P.A. (1947). Foundations of Economic Analysis. Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press.
Stigler, G.J. (2003). Memoirs of an Unregulated Economist. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
2
Economic History in Departments
of Economics: The Case of the University
of Chicago, 1892 to the Present
David Mitch
1 Introduction1
In the late nineteenth century various social sciences emerged as academic
disciplines distinct from either history or moral philosophy, both fields with
which they had previously been commonly intertwined. The timing and
terms on which this occurred differed between Europe and the United States
and across various social science disciplines. Nevertheless, by the turn of the
twentieth century such distinctive academic fields as history, sociology, politi-
cal science, and economics were in existence in both Europe and North
America, as evidenced by, among other considerations, the existence of dis-
tinct professional associations for each of these fields. There is by now a fairly
substantial historiography on these developments (Furner 1975; Ross 1991;
Haskell 1977 [2000]). However, this still leaves the matter of the border areas
between these disciplines and in particular the border areas between history
and the various social sciences. One area of contention in the emergence of
disciplinary specialisation in the late nineteenth century was the extent to
which particular social science disciplines should fully separate themselves
1
Editor’s note: This chapter is a reprint, with minor stylistic changes, of “Economic History in Departments
of Economics: The Case of the University of Chicago, 1892 to the Present”, by David Mitch, Social
Science History, summer 2011, volume 35, number 2, pp. 237–271. Reproduced with the kind permis-
sion of David Mitch and Cambridge University Press.
D. Mitch (*)
Department of Economics, UMBC, Baltimore, MD, USA
e-mail: mitch@umbc.edu
© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 21

R. A. Cord (ed.), The Palgrave Companion to Chicago Economics,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-01775-9_2
22 D. Mitch
from the study of history. Dorothy Ross (1991) suggests that this tension was
along a science-versus-history split, although Robert Adcock (2003) argues
that in the case of political science a more complex array of issues was in play.
The establishment of social science disciplines distinct from history would
seem to imply distinct boundaries with the field of history and leave little
place for border activity between them. Consistent with this point of view,
Ross (1991) suggests that, after the early twentieth century, interaction
between history and the newly emerged social science disciplines declined.
Although she acknowledges some interdisciplinary activity and the later emer-
gence in the twentieth century of the Social Science History Association
(SSHA), she dismisses the Association as involving a focus ‘almost exclusively
on exchanging methods’ without having ‘adequately addressed the positivist
stance that so often accompanies the methods’ (ibid.: 474). Moreover, her
account stops in the 1920s in part, she suggests, because by then the main
lines of disciplinary formation had been established (ibid.: 471).
More specifically, Ross’s account does not very fully consider the efforts at
interdisciplinary involvement between history and one or another of the
newly self-proclaimed social sciences that occurred during the twentieth cen-
tury. This chapter will focus on economic history. In this field there is ample
evidence of substantial twentieth-century activity between the disciplines of
history and economics, starting with the early twentieth-century Carnegie
Foundation studies on American economic history, continuing with the for-
mation of the Economic History Association (EHA) in the United States in
1941, and culminating with the awarding of the Nobel Prize in Economic
Sciences in 1993 to two economic historians. Yet the interdisciplinary field of
economic history raises two contrasting underlying tensions verging on dilem-
mas for its practitioners. On the one hand, what arguments could be made for
how the study of economic history could contribute to the advance of the
field of economics? In particular, how could the incorporation of the study of
history into the study of economics be reconciled with claims of the scientific
standing of economics? On the other hand, how could practitioners of eco-
nomic history retain their historical sensibilities about the character of eco-
nomics while also employing the tools of economics? This chapter will contend
that these tensions have recurred throughout the twentieth-century practice
of economic history but will also note that various approaches have been
taken in response. The approaches adopted in part reflected internalist intel-
lectual developments and the particular scholarly propensities of the people
involved. However, more general societal influences were also at work.
To obtain continuity and focus, this study will consider the case of the
Department of Economics at the University of Chicago. One obvious reason
2 Economic History in Departments of Economics: The Case… 23
for particular interest in the Chicago Department is that it was central to the
development of twentieth-century economics. In this regard, it is associated
with an ahistorical view of human nature and economic activity (Miller
1962). Yet it has also had a number of particularly prominent economic his-
torians on its faculty, including Robert William Fogel, a Nobel Laureate in
economics, as well as Deirdre N. McCloskey, who has served as President of
the SSHA. In addition, the University of Chicago was central in some of the
early developments regarding social science vis-à-vis historicism in the United
States (Ross 1991). Considering one case allows a more unified, continuous
view of developments. It will be suggested here that latent intellectual tenden-
cies in approaches taken at Chicago implied the persistence of interest in
economic history as well as periods of decline. Although developments at
Chicago were in a number of respects distinctive and cannot be taken as rep-
resentative of general US trends, the contrasts as well as similarities are instruc-
tive. The basic set of issues to be considered throughout are the contrasting
opportunities and conflicts in locating a historical dimension to economics as
a social science and how those applying social science methods to the study of
history could keep in view the historical dimensions of social science.
2 The Early Years, 1892–1906: Laughlin,

Veblen, Abbott, and Mitchell
The last quarter of the nineteenth century and first decade of the twentieth
century have been depicted in some accounts as a golden age for the study of
economic history in the United States (Gras 1920; Cole 1968; Sass 1978; Ross
1991). The involvement of historicist reformers such as Richard T. Ely in the
founding of the American Economic Association (AEA) and the recruitment
of the historical economist William Ashley to Harvard University from the
University of Toronto in 1892 to occupy the first chair devoted to economic
history in the United States gave an emphasis to historical perspective in the
economics profession in the US at this time.2 Ashley’s recruitment to Harvard
has been interpreted by some as an attempt by Charles Eliot to give ideological
balance to Harvard’s Department and to placate protectionist businesspeople
concerned about a free-trade bias in the Department (Church 1965: 69–71).
While some Historical School economists did indeed have a protectionist,
2
Ashley was born in England. He studied with Arnold Toynbee at Oxford University and recorded
Toynbee’s lectures on the Industrial Revolution. He subsequently taught at Oxford before moving to the
University of Toronto. Later, on leaving Harvard University, he spent the rest of his career in England.
24 D. Mitch
interventionist orientation, there were other economists with a distinctly his-

torical bent at Harvard who were more free trade and market oriented and who
employed history to defend traditional sound money practices and the role of
markets. These included Charles F. Dunbar, commonly seen as the founder of
Harvard’s Department, as well as Frank Taussig and J. Laurence Laughlin, who
would found Chicago’s Department of Political Economy in 1892 (Church
1965). Arthur H. Cole (1968: 570) notes that 10 of the 16 volumes published
in the Harvard Economic Studies series (which contained primarily Harvard
doctoral dissertations in economics) prior to 1918 could be classified as eco-
nomic history. Yale University followed suit in 1902 by establishing a chair in
economic history, and around 1904 Columbia University appointed Vladimir
Simkhovitch, who offered a survey of economic change in Europe (ibid.:
562–563). A further fillip to historical work occurred when the Carnegie
Foundation, at the urging of the statistician and reformer Carroll Wright,
funded historical studies of major sectors of the American economy through
1860 (Cole 1968). However, Cole suggests that these initial spurs to the study
of economic history in economics departments were dissipated by the onset of
the First World War. Ashley left Harvard in 1901, in part sensing an unwel-
come atmosphere for his historical approach (Church 1965).
The Carnegie Foundation started winding down its programme in
American economic history just a few years after it was started due to a lack
of support by its directors (Cole 1968). Also, Edwin Gay, an important pro-
moter of economic history at Harvard, was diverted by his recruitment to
found the Harvard Business School and then into journalism during the war
itself. A partial resurgence of efforts did occur in the later 1920s with the
short-lived Journal of Economic and Business History, founded by N.S.B. Gras,
then at Harvard, and with the funding of the Rockefeller Foundation, due in
part to a push by Gay, of the International Scientific Committee on Price
History (Cole and Crandall 1964). Still, Abbott Payson Usher et al. (1929)
reported to a European readership on the limited extent of the study of eco-
nomic history in the United States. Moreover, Steven Arthur Sass’s (1978: 51)
general assessment is that by 1940 the study of economic history in the United
States was ‘fragmented and detached from other disciplines’. He attributes
this fragmentation and isolation to the field’s resistance to the deductive anal-
ysis of the ascendant neoclassical mainstream in economics and to the loss of
contact with ‘larger historical contexts’, which could include scholars pursu-
ing heterodox, institutionalist approaches. In addition, the post-First World
War period saw the proliferation of various subfields and corresponding pro-
fessional organisations related to economic history, including business history,
industrial history, and agricultural history (Cole 1968; Sass 1978).
In contrast with the general waning of economic history in the United

States after its ascent in the 1890s, there was more stability and continuity in
its study at the University of Chicago during its first 50 years. Admittedly, the
diverse strands and the diverse possible directions potentially involved in
combining history and social science are evident from the very founding of
the Chicago Department. The founder of Chicago’s Department of Economics,
Laughlin, pursued the use of history in a conservative tradition, going back to
his Harvard mentor, Dunbar. Laughlin defended the importance of banking
and corporate interests in opposition to advocates of social reform and regula-
tion of market processes, such as Ely (Church 1965). His History of Bimetallism
(Laughlin 1886) decries the dangers of the easy money of the silver standard.
In keeping with this spirit, Laughlin recruited Adolph Casper Miller to teach
economic history at Chicago; Miller, in a visit to Germany early in his career,
attended lectures by leading representatives of the German Historical School.
He left for the University of California, Berkeley, around 1902 and subse-
quently became one of the first and longest-serving governors of the Federal
Reserve System.
However, Laughlin also brought with him from Cornell University to
Chicago the young Thorstein Veblen, who would become renowned, if not
notorious, for his iconoclasm and radical socialist propensities. Veblen also
employed historical perspectives but from a more anthropological perspective
and with a view to advocating radical social and economic reform. The puzzle
arises of why a pro-business, establishment type such as Laughlin was attracted
to Veblen. Joseph Dorfman (1934: 79–80) relates the story that he claims
Laughlin frequently told of how Veblen turned up out of the blue in Laughlin’s
office at Cornell in 1891, wearing a coonskin cap, and announced, ‘I am
Thorstein Veblen’; Laughlin was sufficiently impressed by Veblen’s earnestness
at this initial interview that he arranged a special grant to support his studies.
During his time at Cornell, Veblen published two notes on capital theory sup-
portive of Laughlin’s views (ibid.: 85–87). Although Veblen subsequently
went in a radically different direction, Laughlin seems to have continued to
respect his intellect and insights. Intellectual ability can apparently dominate
differences in ideology and practical political orientation.
Initially, neither the social reformist, anti-laissez-faire historical approach
associated with Ely nor the contrasting scientific neoclassical marginalist
approach were in evidence at Chicago. However, scholars who pursued social
reform and employed institutionalist approaches based on historical perspec-
tive did emerge among early graduate students in the Chicago Department,
in particular Edith Abbott, Sophonisba Breckinridge, and Wesley Clair
Mitchell.
26 D. Mitch
3 Wright and the Functional Approach

to Economic History, 1907–1947
One scholar during the first half of the twentieth century who enjoyed a very
long career at Chicago and who combined a number of the strands surveyed
above in his approach to economic history was Chester Wright, who joined the
Department of Economics in 1907. It was Wright who provided continuity to
the study of economic history at Chicago until the Second World War. Although
he taught economic history for some 40 years at Chicago and was known for his
textbook on American economic history, and although he was influenced by
Gay at Harvard, Wright’s basic training was in economics, not economic his-
tory. Wright’s main mentor at Harvard was Taussig, and Wright can be seen as
pursuing Taussig’s middle-ground ideological approach to the role of historical
perspective in the study of economics (Church 1965; Ross 1991). Like Taussig,
Wright employed historical perspective to address substantive policy issues in
economics; Wright (1941: ix) termed this ‘the functional approach to economic
history’.3 He did acknowledge the moral dimensions of economic history and
its contributions to the social reform tradition due to the field’s implications for
how people got their living and whether living standards had been improving
over time. However, Gras (1941: 865), in his review of Wright’s landmark text-
book on American economic history, states acerbically that Wright’s use of a
classical economic framework implied that Wright ‘has murdered to dissect: he
has found the bones but missed the life’. Gras (ibid.: 866) also notes of Wright’s
implicit social standards that the ‘objective is an increase in general production
and the general standard of living … What is important is a mass of Americans
with bathtubs and electric lights rather than a group of social and producing
classes operating under vigorous leadership and with an effective organisation’.
Wright did maintain a presence for economic history for some 40 years in
the Department. Under his watch, a second economic historian was hired,
John U. Nef, Jr. Economic history came to be incorporated in undergraduate
and doctoral graduation requirements.4 Roughly 20% of all PhDs completed
3
Wright (1941: ix) says in particular that his approach is ‘that of the economist whose immediate and
primary function is to study the production and distribution of wealth with the objective of learning how
the nation’s economic progress can be promoted and its standard of living advanced’.
4
The University of Chicago Announcements for the academic year 1920–1921 (p. 21) state for the first time
that one requirement for the PhD in economics is ‘intelligent acquaintance’ with English and American
economic history. In the Announcements for 1925–1926 (p. 52), this changes to the equivalent of an under-
graduate course in American economic history; in the Announcements for 1931–1932 (p. 21), this changes
to the equivalent of an undergraduate course in both American and European economic history. This
requirement or a similar requirement was listed in the Announcements up through the 1953–1954 academic
year. A one-quarter graduate course requirement in economic history for the PhD was listed in the
Announcements for the academic years between 1962–1963 and 1982–1983. Cole (1968: 574) claims that
most US doctoral programmes in economics in the 1920s had some sort of economic history requirement.
during Wright’s tenure were in the field of economic history (see Table 2.1).
Some students completing doctoral dissertations under his supervision, such
as Harold A. Innis and Homer Hoyt, did go on to distinguished careers.
However, by the time of his retirement in the mid-1940s, developments in
both economics and economic history were passing by Wright. By 1940,
neoclassical marginalism had established itself as the mainstream in econom-
ics, while a separate institutionalist tradition based in part on historical per-
spective was in evidence at centres such as the University of Wisconsin. In
the late 1930s, Earl J. Hamilton and others were pushing for the formation
of the EHA. Wright was not centrally involved with these developments.
Usher et al.’s 1929 survey of centres for economic history in the United
States makes no mention of Chicago. Also, George Rogers Taylor’s (1972
[2002]) memoir of his graduate days at Chicago indicates that Wright’s
course on trusts was more engaging than his course on American economic
history.
4 Knight and Nef: Contrasting Views

on the Role of Economic History
The period 1940–1960 is generally seen as one of resurgence and consolida-
tion of the field of economic history in the United States (Cole 1968; Sass
1978; de Rouvray 2004). It is bounded at its outset by the founding of the
EHA in 1940 and at its terminus by the publication of W.W. Rostow’s (1960)
Stages of Economic Growth as well as the birth of the cliometric movement.
The first two events underscore two general factors underlying the rise of eco-
nomic history during this period. The first is the emergence of clear institu-
tional support for economic history. The rise of the EHA reflects the growing
academic presence of economic history. In addition, the Rockefeller
Foundation started funding for the Committee on Research in Economic
History in the 1940s (Cole 1968; Sass 1978; de Rouvray 2004). The second
factor is that interest in economic history in the 1950s was sustained by the
emerging interest in problems of economic growth and development in the
presence of Cold War competition for the allegiances of the nations arising
from former European colonies.
At the University of Chicago during these decades, however, compared
with national trends, economic history was in a state of transition due, first,
to the anticipated retirement of Wright in the mid-1940s and, second, to the
problematic career of his replacement, Hamilton. The records and
28 D. Mitch
Table 2.1 Doctoral dissertations in economic history relative to doctoral dissertations

in economics at the University of Chicago, 1892–2006
Economic history Economic history narrow Total doctoral
broad definition definition dissertations in
Time period N N economics
1892–1920 12 32.40 8 21.60 37
1921–1930 17 34.00 10 20.00 50
1931–1940 9 23.70 7 18.40 38
1941–1950 7 10.10 5 7.20 69
1951–1960 18 12.50 16 11.10 144
1961–1962 5 17.86 4 14.30 28
[23.80 [19.00 [21
corrected] corrected] corrected]
1963–1975 30 11.95 22 8.80 251
[12.90 [9.50 [232
corrected] corrected] corrected]
1976–1980 15 12.70 10 8.50 118
1981–1990 24 10.50 17 7.40 229
1991–2000 40 12.90 14 4.50 311
2001–2006 20 12.40 7 4.30 161
1892–2006 197 13.70 120 8.30 1,436
Note: The list of dissertations in economic history was obtained by starting with the list
generated by searching in ProQuest, digital dissertations for institution, University of
Chicago, and subject of dissertation, economic history. Dissertations whose clear focus
was the history of economic thought were excluded. Additional titles were added by
going to the University of Chicago Library catalogue and searching through
dissertations completed in the Department of Economics (or Dept. of Economics or
Department of Political Economy). A dissertation was classified as being in economic
history if any of the following criteria was met: (a) has history in title, (b) covers time
span of more than 25 years, or (c) takes up an episode that occurred more than 25 years
before the dissertation was submitted. Even with these criteria, some basic judgement
calls were made in deciding whether a substantial focus was on economic history. The
broad category included both dissertations in the narrow category and dissertations
completed in departments other than economics as well as dissertations completed in
economics for which, though listed by digital dissertations as having economic history
as the subject, the focus on economic history was more secondary. The narrow category
included only dissertations submitted to the Department of Economics and whose
primary focus, in my judgement, was on economic history. Judgement calls were still
involved, and there may well have been economic history dissertations excluded,
especially those completed in other departments, such as history, while some
dissertations included even in the narrow category may not, in the judgement of the
dissertation author, have been in economic history. The figures for total doctoral
dissertations in economics were obtained by searching in ProQuest, digital dissertations
for institution, University of Chicago, and subject of dissertation, economics. The
corrections reported for these figures for the years 1961–1975 were obtained by using
the University of Chicago Library online catalogue to count the total number of
doctoral dissertations completed in the Department of Economics
correspondence that remain from the deliberations over finding a replace-

ment for Wright in the 1940s indicate that considerable importance was
attached to the field of economic history. Further evidence of this is that
efforts were actually made to hire two senior economic historians at this
time, Hamilton and Innis, in addition to Nef, who was already on the
Department’s faculty. As Department Chair Simeon E. Leland put it in a
1945 letter to Hamilton:
We have pinned our goal to a star. Our choice is like that of a child—instead of
selecting the apple or the orange, he prefers both. So do we. What would be
better than a combination of Hamilton and Innis or Innis and Hamilton to
work with Nef in Economic History and all the rest of us on everything else!5
The Chicago Economics Department at this time had only about 15 ten-
ured or tenure-track faculty members (the 1944–1945 University of Chicago
Announcements lists 14 people with the rank of assistant professor or higher—
that is excluding instructors, lecturers, and affiliate faculty—and only 10 full
professors). Thus the hiring of three specialist economic historians would have
implied that 18% (3 of 16) of the Department’s regular faculty positions, and
25% (3 of 12) of its full professor slots, were occupied by economic histori-
ans. In actuality, only Hamilton was recruited in 1947, implying, for the
academic year 1947–1948, that 10% (2 of 20) of the Department’s faculty at
the rank of assistant professor or higher were devoted to economic history but
also 25% (2 of 8) of its full professors.
The Department’s choice of Innis and Hamilton features two fundamen-
tally contrasting approaches to how economic history relates to the discipline
of economics, and this reflected the contrasting views of Nef and Frank
Knight on this issue. Furthermore, the issue is one that has recurred in relat-
ing economic history to the study of economics. Innis, Nef ’s choice, increas-
ingly pursued in his work a transcendent, integrative role for economic
history with a limited scope for the application of economic theory. In con-
trast, Hamilton, Knight’s choice, employed the use of economic concepts
and extensive quantification in the study of long-run historical issues of
interest to economists. Each approach posed dilemmas for incorporating
economic history into the study of economics, and thus the history of how
each played out at Chicago is worth further consideration here. The Nef-
Innis approach would seem to squeeze out the role of economic theory, while
the Hamilton-Knight approach subordinated history to theory and raised
5
Leland to Hamilton, 10 August 1945, Earl J. Hamilton Papers, Duke University, Box 2.
30 D. Mitch
issues as to whether there was a significant historical dimension to the study

of economics.
Furthermore, the views of Knight in these deliberations are of general sig-
nificance, since Ross has argued that he was pivotal in weakening the role of
history within the US economics profession. Ross’s (1991: 420) subsection on
Knight in her history of American social science bears the title “Frank Knight
and the Final Turn Against History”. Ross notes that Knight was aware of the
limitations of economics as a positivistic science and that he allowed scope for
the role of history in the study of economics. But she argues that he ultimately
viewed historical knowledge as of a lower form than that based on deductive
economic theory:
Knight thus stands at a fundamental turning point in political economy. He

first expressed the position taken by Mill and developed in America from the
time of Francis A. Walker onward, that consigned all the wider human pur-
poses, and the changing social and institutional world in which they acted, to a
vaguely delineated realm of history, exterior to the realm of market rationality.
Under the pressure of profound disillusionment with that historical world,
however, Knight turned and began to colonise it for market analysis. In the
work of his students, history as anything other than the utility-maximising
behaviour of individuals has disappeared (ibid.: 427).
An important issue for further consideration, then, is whether Knight’s

stance regarding economic history weakened the role of history as much as
Ross suggests.
The approach to economic history taken by Innis and Nef harks back to
late nineteenth-century American historicist approaches that integrated his-
tory, economics, and sociology (see Ross 1991: Chapter 4 and the discussion
below). Innis, as noted above, was a prominent Chicago product who finished
his thesis on the economic impact of the Canadian Pacific Railway under
Wright’s supervision in 1920 and then took a position at Toronto, where he
did important work on the staples approach to export-led growth as it applied
to Canada.6 However, his work branched out from economic history to
encompass interactions between economic and cultural change, as particu-
larly evidenced in his studies of the cultural consequences of changes in com-
munications media (Innis 1950, 1951 [1991]). A protégé of Innis at Toronto
was Marshall McLuhan, of the medium-is-the-message fame, and Innis
6
Parallels and contrasts between Innis’s work on the economic impact of the Canadian Pacific and Fogel’s
work on the Union Pacific are developed in Peter George’s Foreword to Innis’s (1923 [1971]) A History
of the Canadian Pacific Railway.
himself has been acknowledged as an important influence on the develop-

ment of modern media studies.7 Thus Innis’s work came to highlight the
interaction between economic and noneconomic factors, and Innis can be
seen as an interdisciplinary generalist rather than a specialist.
Nef, Innis’s advocate in the 1940s, did not assume a position on the faculty
at Chicago until 1929, almost a decade after Innis had left the University.
Although not nearly as well remembered as Knight, Nef was quite influential
both at Chicago, as founder of the Committee on Social Thought (which cur-
rently bears his name), and in the field of economic history. His father had
founded Chicago’s Department of Chemistry. Nef completed a doctoral dis-
sertation, which then became his first book (Nef 1932), on the rise of the
British coal industry, under the direction of R.H. Tawney in London, though
the degree was officially awarded by the Robert Brookings Graduate School in
Washington, D.C. While the dissertation and the first book were on a prosaic,
albeit standard, topic in economic history, Nef ’s subsequent topics took up
far more wide-ranging topics concerning the role of government, war, and
culture in economic affairs. His attraction to the study of history seems to
have been the potential it offered for pursuing connections among diverse
areas of human endeavour, including the arts, literature, and science as well as
economics.
Nef (1973: 189) indicates in his autobiography that his choice of the early
modern British coal industry for his dissertation was guided by Charles
Homer Haskins’s suggestion in a Harvard seminar that ‘unlike a synthesis, a
monograph, if done thoroughly and well, would have a long life expectancy’.
However, in the process of establishing the Committee on Social Thought in
the early 1940s, Nef (ibid.: 191) found that his scholarly interests had shifted
from ‘seeking to illuminate a special subject as had been the original object of
the monograph on the coal industry’ to ‘exploring interrelations between
many branches of history that were being erected in special and separate fields
of scholarly inquiry. The object was to discover and reveal the inter-dependence
between the various sides of human endeavour and thus contribute to the
unification of knowledge’.
Nef (ibid.: 194) also indicates that his artistic proclivities drew him to take
a more synthetic approach to history:
The attempt to establish historical interrelationships is inviting to the artistic

mind. The whole idea of such interrelationships is artificial. In one sense they
are not history at all. But if they are successfully established by art, nourished
7
See the introduction by Paul Heyer and David Crowley in Innis (1951 [1991]: xxi–xxv).
32 D. Mitch
with accurately handled materials, they can help us to understand the broad
course history has taken better than factual accounts of particular aspects. Thus
the artistically-oriented historian should be capable of creating a world corre-
sponding to the realities of past evolution, just as great painting or a great con-
certo corresponds to realities which are recognised by others only because the
artist reveals them.
Nef acknowledged that economic history on the surface might seem to be

an arbitrary starting point for exploring interrelationships among diverse
human endeavours. Although perhaps not to the same degree as his mentor,
Tawney, it was the potential moral dimension of economic history that Nef
(ibid.: 194–195) saw as justifying it as a starting point for his project:
Some may ask how one could hope to draw history into the realm of beauty and
delight, when history is so vile? … Historians…dealt with wars and other struggles
for power, which are by their nature, evil and messy, and therefore revolting to the
finest human aspirations. The new materials now available for discovering interre-
lationships, and through these for reexamining the nature of causation, can bring
less base motives—for instance the search for the beautiful and the good—into
new constructions as neglected factors in history … If a commitment to order and
elegance [inspired by the arts] could enable the historian to reach towards perma-
nence, the same is true of a commitment to moral principles, to a hierarchy of ethi-
cal values, which inevitably guides the greatest artists in their work. Virtue therefore
would be a stabilising force, like beauty, in any artistic historical construction.
In a 1960 memo to a Rockefeller Foundation programme officer, Nef sum-

marised the development of his vision of economic history away from an
emphasis on technology and industrial enterprise to one on spiritual values,
in particular those of Christianity:
I used to suppose that the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries in
Europe were an important turning point by virtue of the tangible changes that
took place, above all in Great Britain, in industrial growth, industrial technol-
ogy and the forms of industrial enterprise. I no longer think that these tangible
changes were of decisive importance. But I have come to see that changes in
men’s minds and hearts which occurred at this very time were of decisive impor-
tance and have a bearing on the whole future of the industrial civilisation which
these changes helped to bring into being. More and more I have come to see
that the origins of these changes go back to Christianity.8
8
“Memo to Mr. John Greedneldt, Rockefeller Foundation, 26 April 1960”, John U. Nef, Jr. Papers,
University of Chicago Library: Box 36, Folder 15.
Tawney, not surprisingly, since he was his dissertation mentor, exerted a

considerable subsequent influence on Nef. Tawney visited Chicago on three
occasions (during the springs of 1939, 1941, and 1948 (Terrill 1973: 86, 87,
91)), and Nef seems to have been instrumental in setting up these invitations
and arrangements. Nef also attempted, unsuccessfully, to recruit Tawney for a
permanent position at Chicago. Thus Tawney’s more systematically exposited
work may provide further insights into Nef ’s outlook and the integrative tra-
dition that Nef represented.9
Tawney was influenced by Christian socialism, and his approach to eco-
nomic and social history was informed by his moral values and his sense of
social responsibility to the individual. He distanced himself from Marxism
but was influential in English socialist and labour circles. Tawney’s approach
to history was thus informed by his general moral framework, his belief in the
importance of ideas and values, and his quest for suitable moral ideals, in
particular for a sense of lost human fellowship that past societies possessed
(Tawney 1972: 9, 75). For Tawney, economic history provided contact with
the humbler elements of society, and he thought that appreciating the story of
their exploitation and alienation was key to restoring spiritual health to soci-
ety at large. Tawney (1912: xxiii) believed that the study of economic history
would reveal suitable moral ideals for society at large by revealing how these
ideals had been lost in the past:
The supreme interest of economic history lies, it seems to me, in the clue it
offers to the development of those dimly conceived presuppositions as to social
expediency which influence the actions not only of statesmen, but of humble
individuals and classes, and influence, perhaps most decisively those who are
least conscious of any theoretical bias.
Nef ’s quest, less focused than Tawney’s, did contain a moral dimension but
ranged broadly over culture and civilisation generally. Nef thus employed his-
tory as a springboard for the general study of culture.
Nef’s own approach to integrating economic history with history and culture
in general was not particularly systematic; his books after his first and arguably
most important contribution, on the British coal industry, tend to ramble; and
the Committee on Social Thought at Chicago continues to be sui generis.
9
Interestingly, Nef admired Friedrich von Hayek as well as Tawney and played a pivotal role in recruiting
Hayek to a chair at Chicago with the Committee on Social Thought, which Hayek occupied for over a
decade. Nef, a New Deal Democrat politically, appears to have been attracted to Hayek not because of
his libertarian ideology but because of his appreciation for the moral implications of social science
scholarship.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
päärakennuksenkin. Islantilainen talo on sen vuoksi vähän sen
näköinen kuin kappale pienen kaupungin katua. Siinä luulisi olevan
monta pientä mökkiläisasumusta yhdessä ryhmässä, vaikka kaikki
rakennukset kuuluvatkin samaan talouteen. Eräässä ulkohuoneessa
säilytetään kaikenlaisia ulkotalouskapineita, toisessa on paja, joka ei
koskaan puutu islantilaisesta — sen enempää kuin
suomalaisestakaan — talosta. Lehmi- ja lammasnavetat sekä talli
tavallisesti ovat jonkun matkan päässä asuinrakennuksesta ja
kalankuivaushuoneet niinikään. Varakkaampien talot ovat tavallisesti
pihoineen ylt'ympärinsä turveaidalla ympäröidyt. Islantilaisen koti ei
siis meikäläisiin oloihin verraten ole kovin tilava eikä viihdykäskään.
Se on lisäksi sangen kostea. Mutta puitten puute ja maan
järkkyminen estävät parempia taloja rakentamasta. Pohjoisrannalla
ja itärannalla on kuitenkin käytetty enemmän puuta, sillä niille
rannoille merivirta kuljettaa paljon ajopuita, jotka luultavasti ovat aina
Siperiasta kotoisin. Siperian suuret joet niitä kevättulvilla purkavat
Jäämereen mahdottomia ryteikköjä, merivirta kuljettaa puut navan
poikki, ja osa lopulta päätyy Islannin ja Grönlannin rannoille. Ne ovat
merimatkansa suorittaneet saman virtauksen mukana, joka toi
Nansenin »Framin» navan ohi Atlantin meren pohjoisosiin.
Paljon hankaluutta tuottaa islantilaisille se seikka, että polttoaineita

on niin niukalti ja että ne ovat niin huonoja. Uuneja ei taloissa siitä
syystä ole ensinkään, avoimet liedet vain. Kun ajopuita harvoissa
paikoissa saadaan riittävästi eikä poltettavaksi pätevää koivumetsää
ole juuri ensinkään, niin polttaa islantilainen suoturvetta. Mutta
hänen suoturpeensa ei ole yhtä hyvää, kuin Tanskan ja Pohjois-
Saksan. Usein se on rikkipitoista ja lämmittää huonosti. Apuna
poltetaan hevosen- ja lehmänlantaa, vaikka sen kautta maanviljelys
menettää tärkeän lannotusaineen, jota se kovin hyvin tarvitsisi.
Lehmänlanta levitellään niityille, saa olla niillä koko talven ja keväällä
kuivaneena tuodaan taloihin poltettavaksi. Semmoisilla polttoaineilla
ei tietenkään voida pitää huoneita yhtä lämpöisinä kuin meillä
Suomessa, jossa uuneissa päivät pitkät palaa kovia kuivia halkoja.
Mutta vielä paljon huonommin on köyhien kalastajien lämmityksen
laita. Heillä kun on hyvin vähän kotieläimiä, niin ei ole edes lantaa
polttaa. Kalastajat sen vuoksi kokoavat rannikolta mitä suinkin
palavaa löytävät, kalantotkuja, luita, maalle ajautuneita kuivaneita
merileviä, sieniä. Vestmannasaarilla ei aina ole sitäkään. Siellä
enimmäkseen poltetaan kuivattuja lintuja — samoin kuin monessa
paikoin pääsaarellakin, milloin ei muuta polttoainetta ole. Varsinkin
lunneja ja myrskylintuja poltetaan. Lunnin rintapuoli leikataan pois ja
suolataan syötäväksi, muu osa kuivataan ja poltetaan. Myrskylinnun
pää, siivet, kynnet, ja sisälmykset sekotetaan lehmänlantaan, seos
kuivataan ja poltetaan. Helppo on arvata, minkälaista käryä
semmoisesta polttoaineesta lähtee, etenkin kun ei ole kunnollisia
liesiä. Mutta lämpö on aina suloista, ja kahta suloisempaa niin
kolkossa, tuulisessa ja kosteassa maassa kuin Islanti on.
Ruuasta ei Islannissa sitä vastoin ole niinkään puutetta, vaikk'ei

meikäläinen heidän ruokiaan juuri kiittäisi. Meri ja joet antavat
kalaista karjaa. Laitumilla on joka talolla sadottain lampaita ja hyvät
ovat lehmikarjatkin. Mutta hevosen lihaa ei Islannissa enää syödä.
Leipää syödään vähän, sillä se on kaikki ostettava. Leivän sijasta
purraan suolaamatonta kapakalaa, joka on kuivaushuoneissa
kuivattu. Kuiva kala sinään piestään kivellä mureaksi ja sekotetaan
sitten suolattomaan, käymistilassa olevaan voihin. Mutta maitoa
onneksi saadaan runsaasti ja voita niinikään. Ainoastaan kalastajat
ovat senkin puolesta huonommalla osalla. Voin asemesta he
sekottavat ruokaansa höysteeksi talia ja traania. Viljaleivän
asemesta syödään jäkälästä laitettua hätäleipää. Mutta viime
aikoina, viljanhinnan halvennuttua ja merenantimien hinnan
kohottua, on oikea jauholeipä alkanut päästä Islannissa yhä
enemmän käytäntöön. Maassa itsessään ei kuitenkaan vielä tänä
päivänäkään leiväksiä kasva. Mutta Islannin jäkälä ei kuitenkaan ole
halveksittava ravintoaine. Se sisältää kokonaista 80 pros. samoja
ravintoaineita kuin ruiskin. Se kootaan, kuivataan, jauhetaan
jauhoksi ja leivotaan leiväksi. Mutta tavallisempaa on, että se
keitetään velliksi. Toisin ajoin on kansa semmoisissa seuduissa,
joissa tätä jäkälää on runsaasti, elänyt yksinomaan sillä pitkiä aikoja.
Ja kun se kunnolla valmistetaan, niin siitä tuleekin sekä
hyvänmakuinen että varsin ravitseva ruoka. Islannin jäkälää
(Cetraria islandica) kasvaa Suomessakin. Se ei ole sama kuin
poronjäkälä (Cladonia rangiferina). Muitakin jäkäliä köyhät
islantilaiset ovat tottuneet hädän aikana syömään. Väinönputken
(Archangelica officinalis) juurta he pitävät herkkuna ja se on jo
monen eksyneen matkamiehen hengenkin pelastanut karuilla
ylämailla. Paitsi juuria syödään itse putketkin, jonka vuoksi tätä
kasvia viljelläänkin. Merileviäkään ei halveksita. Erästä merilevää
liotellaan kuukausmääriä suolattomassa vedessä. Lehdille tällöin
kokoontuu pieniä valkoisia rakeita, jotka maistuvat varsin hyviltä.
Levä sitten yhdessä jäkälän kanssa keitetään velliksi ja syödään.
Toisinaan sitä kuivattuna syödään paljaaltaan. Ennen vanhaan leviä
syötiin vielä paljon yleisemmin kuin nykyään.
Tarkkaan on islantilainen siis tottunut hyväkseen käyttämään

karun maansa luonnontuotteita.
Ennen vanhaan lienee Islannissa viljelty joku määrä viljaa, mutta

pian huomattiin viljan viljelys kannattamattomaksi ja se on sitten
kokonaan unhotukseen jäänyt. Se mikä islantilaisella talonpojalla on
muokattua ja lannotettua maata, on heinämaana. Lannotetuista
maistaan hän saa parhaat heinänsä talven varaksi. Se heinä, joka
luonnonniityiltä korjataan, syötetään lampaille. Luonnonniityistä
alavammilla hetemailla sijaitsevat ovat hyviä, mutta suurin osa on
jotenkin karua kivensekaista maata, jota osaksi käytetään
laitumenakin. Soiltakin, jotka Islannissa ovat laajat, korjataan
melkoiset määrät heinää. Viime aikoina on ruvettu sekä niittyjä että
soita keinotekoisesti kastelemaan, ja sen kautta on' niitten
kasvuvoimaa paljon parannettu. Tunturien kupeilla ja vuoristoon
nousevissa tunturilaaksoissa ovat varsinaiset laidunmaat.
Islannin tärkein elinkeino on karjanhoito. Viljaa kasvattamaan maa

on liian kylmä — vihanneksia ja perunoita kuitenkin viljellään —
mutta heinää se tuottaa runsaasti ja laitumet ovat harvaan
asutukseen nähden laajat. Lammas, joka muualla alkaa jäädä pois
kotieläinten luvusta, on Islannissa muita tärkeämpi, koska se tulee
toimeen huonoimmalla laitumella. Lammas lämpöisine
villaturkkineen saa toisinaan olla vuoden umpeensa ulkona
laitumella ja itse etsiä ravintonsa, sillä Islannin talvi on verraten leuto.
Tosin lampaita silloin usein tapaturman kautta menetetään, joko ne
eksyvät tuntureille ja hautaantuvat lumeen, putoilevat kallioitten tai
jäätiköitten rotkoihin, taikka joutuvat ketun, Islannin pahimman
petoeläimen saaliiksi. Lapset ja puolikasvuiset tytöt paimentavat
laumoja, älykkäät koirat apunaan. Semmoisilla laitumilla, jotka ovat
taloista etäämpänä, on turpeesta ja kivestä rakennetut paimenmajat
ja karjansuojat. Kun laumat ulkolaitumilla kulkevat sekasin, niin saa
jokainen lammas, ennenkun sitä laitumelle lasketaan, korvaansa
omistajansa merkin.
Tunturilaitumilla lammaslaumat usein hajaantuvat ja eksyvät, ja

sen vuoksi on tapana, että joka talosta, joka on laitumeen osallinen,
kesässä moniaan kerran lähtee mies paimenten avuksi kokoomaan
hajaantunutta laumaa. Syksyllä laumat ajetaan alas laaksoihin.
Myrskyjen, lumituiskujen ja pakkastenkin vuoksi voi laumain
kerääminen silloin olla vaarallinenkin tehtävä. Erinomaisen
vaivalloista se aina on, sillä kaiken kesää omissa hoteissaan oltuaan
lampaat ovat käyneet aroiksi ja tahtoisivat mieluummin vapautensa
säilyttää kuin palata alas taloihin. Syksyllä on sen vuoksi
tunturilaitumilla paljon väkeä puuhassa, lampaat kootaan eri
suunnilta kiviaitauksiin, joissa ne korvamerkkinsä mukaan erotellaan,
niin että kukin saa omansa. Kun lampaat on erotettu, niin ne ajetaan
alas laaksoihin ja käyvät sitten talojen lähiseuduilla laitumella, niin
kauan kun suinkin voivat lumen alta etsiä ravintonsa. Ainoastaan
pahimmilla myrskyillä ne pääsevät navettaan ja lunta liiaksi kartuttua
saavat kuivia heiniä. Mutta jos lumi tulee aikaiseen, niin sattuu usein,
että talon heinävarat loppuvatkin kesken ja silloin täytyy
kevättalvesta karjaa vähentää.
Islannissa ennen vanhaan pidettiin suuria nautakarjoja, mutta ne

ovat vähentymistään vähentyneet ja lammasten hoito, saaren
ilmastoon sopivampana, on voittanut alaa. Lehmiä pidetään sen
verran kuin talon omat tarpeet vaativat, lampaita sitä vastoin niin
paljon, että niiden tuotteita riittää myydäkin. Islannin lehmärotu on
voimallista, hyvin kehittynyttä ja lypsää hyvin. Kun se koleana
vuodenaikana pidetään navetoissa, niin on se paremmin säilynyt
kuin hevonen ja lammas, jotka vähitellen ovat ilmaston koleuden
vuoksi vähentyneet ja karvaansa muuttaneet. Islannin hevoset olivat
vanhain viikinkien aikana parhaita sotiratsuja, mitä pohjoismaissa oli.
Niitä hoidettiin suurella huolella ja pidettiin suuria laumoja. Tapana oli
panna toimeen kilpa-ajoja ja myös hevostaisteluita, jotka olivat
saarella yleisiä vielä monta vuosisataa sen jälkeenkin, kun Islanti oli
itsenäisyytensä menettänyt. Mutta aikain kuluessa on muinoinen
sotiratsu paljon muotoaan muuttanut. Siitä on tullut pieni ja
takkuinen, mutta erinomaisen sitkeä ja älykäs eläin, joka kiipeilee
tuntureilla ketterään kuin vuohi ja on islantilaiselle tuiki välttämätön,
jos mieli tehdä vähänkin pidemmän matkan. Islantilaisessa talossa
sen vuoksi pidetään paljon hevosia. Tavallisesti saa jokainen
nimikkonsa, heti kun hän on tullut siihen ikään että hevosen selässä
pysyy. Kun talonväki sunnuntaina lähtee kirkkoon, niin tapahtuu se
ratsain. Nuoret ja vanhat, miehet ja vaimot, isäntäväki ja palvelijat,
kaikki ratsastavat hevosellaan, toisinaan kilpaakin ajaen. Ja kun
talosta lähdetään vierailemaan johonkin naapuritaloon — talojen
välimatkat ovat pitkät — niin tapahtuu se ratsain. Kun isäntä lähtee
kauppapaikkaan myymään maansa ja karjansa tuotteita, niin
kuljettaa hän tavaransa hevosen selässä ja hevosia on silloin koko
lauma mukana. Samoin hän hevosen selässä tuo, mitä sieltä ostaa.
Kaikki kuljetus yleensä tapahtuu hevosen selässä, sillä teitä ei
saareen ole rakennettu kuin aivan viime aikoina enimmin kuljetuille
väleille. Islantilaisessa talossa on sen vuoksi kotieläinten suhde
toinen kuin muualla maailmassa. Voidaan pitää 6—8 lehmää, 200
lammasta ja 12—16 hevosta.
Mutta vaikka Islannissa hevonen on niin välttämätön, niin saa se

kaikista kotieläimistä huonoimman hoidon osakseen. Ainoastaan
parhaat, isännän ja emännän nimikot, pidetään kotona vuodet
umpeensa ja talvella tallissa. Suurin osa talon hevosista kiertelee
kesän pitkän kaukana ylämaan laaksoissa ja tunturien rinteillä, jossa
ne viihtyvätkin erinomaisesti. Mutta talvella niitten toimeentulo on
kylläkin vaikea, ja moni hevonen silloin joutuu turmioon. Ei
huonommillakaan säillä niitä voida kauaa tallissa pitää, sillä
heinävarat ovat pienet. Heti kun suinkin ilma myöden antaa, niiden
tulee lähteä laitumelle kuopimaan lumen alta ravintonsa. Vaikein on
hevosten toimeentulo keväällä. Silloin niitten usein täytyy tyytyä
levään, jota meri on rannalle vierittänyt, ja nälkään nääntyäkin. Viime
aikoina on hevosia aljettu yhä enemmän kasvattaa maasta
vietäviksi. Niitä viedään Skotlantiin ja Englantiin, jossa niitä
käytetään hiilikaivoksissa.
Tämmöistä on siis nykyisin jokapäiväinen elämä Islannissa.

Saarensa luonnonvarain turviin jätettynä väestö on melkoisesti
muuttunut entisestään. Sen on täytynyt oppia taistelemaan
ankarampaa luontoa vastaan kuin melkeinpä minkään muun kansan
maanosassamme, lappalaisia lukuunottamatta. Sen on täytynyt
oppia tarkalleen käyttämään hyväkseen kaikkea, mitä karu luonto
tarjoo, ja toisilla tuotteilla korvaamaan semmoisia, joita melkein
kokonaan puuttuu, Tuskin voi siitä kuvaavampaa esimerkkiä mainita
kuin sen, että polttopuitten asemesta poltetaan kuivatuita lintuja.
Entinen sotainen rajuus on talttunut. Nykyinen islantilainen on
hiljainen, rauhallinen, jossain määrin umpimielinen, niinkuin
Suomenkin asukas, luonteensa pohjalla paljon surumielisyyttä. Mutta
siltä ei häneltä suinkaan puutu rohkeutta. Harvapa muu kansa
pienillä avoimilla veneillä ansaitsisi elatuksensa niin levottomalla
merellä.
Mutta vaikka islantilainen onkin vanhastaan muuttunut, niin on

hänessä vielä paljon samojakin ominaisuuksia kuin saaren
ensimäisissäkin asukkaissa. Runoutta suositaan vielä tänä päivänä
samoin kuin silloinkin, Ja Islannissa on jotenkin ennallaan säilynyt se
vanha kielikin, jolla Eddat ja muu sankarikirjallisuus on kirjotettu.
Islantilainen on keskikokoa, jotenkin lujarakenteinen, hartiat leveät,

lonkat kapeat, tukka vaalea ja silmät siniset. Näistä tunnusmerkeistä
hänet tunteekin germaaniksi, mutta rotu ei suinkaan ole puhdasta.
Se on enemmän sekaantunut kuin Skandinavian niemimaalla, sillä
islantilaiset hankkivat paljon orjia, varsinkin Irlannin kelttiläisiä, jotka
myöhemmin sekaantuivat heihin. Sen vuoksi tapaa saarella
monenlaista ulkonäköä. Kauniita eivät ole naiset sen enempää kuin
miehetkään, vaikka poikkeuksia tietenkin on. Miehillä ei ole
varsinaista kansallispukua, mutta yleinen vaateparsi kuitenkin on,
leveät housut, liivit ja lyhyt musta sarkatakki. Tämä puku tekee
muukalaiseen melkeinpä 'synkän vaikutuksen, mutta saaren mustien
laavakenttien ja harmaitten kallioseinämien kanssa se on kylläkin
sopusoinnussa. Varakkaammat käyttävät ulkomaalaisia kankaita.
Omituisin osa miesten puvusta on kengät. Ne valmistetaan
parkitsemattomasta lampaan nahasta, yhdestä ainoasta
kappaleesta; ne ovat kuin lötöt ja sidotaan nauhalla nilkan ympäri.
Naiset käyttävät yleiseen kansallispukua, varsinkin juhlapäivinä.
Päässä on arkena sekä kotona että ulkona pieni musta lakki, josta
riippuu pitkä tupsu. Liivi on tumma ja piukka, mutta edestä jotenkin
alas auki leikattu, niin että valkoinen paidanröyhelö kohoo esiin.
Tämä avoliivi antaa islantilaisille naisille reippaan ja soman ryhdin.
Mutta juhlapäivinä Islannin naiset pitävät päässään korkeata
valkoista hattua, johon on kiinnitetty valkoinen huntu. Vyötäillä
pidetään kallisarvoista, hopealla ja kullalla helattua vyötä, joka
kulkee perheessä perintönä polvesta polveen.
Islannin eteläkärki on jotenkin samalla leveysasteella kuin Vaasa.

Pääkaupunki Reykjavik on Kokkolan tasalla. Pohjoisrantaa hipaisee
napapiiri, se siis on Rovaniemen tasalla. Islanti on siis kylläkin
pohjoinen maa, mutta meidän käsityksiemme mukaan ei kuitenkaan
niin pohjoinen, etteikö siellä voisi metsä menestyä. Meillähän metsää
kasvaa Lapin äärimmäisiä perukoita myöden. Varmaan Islannin
metsättömyyteen siis on toisia syitä. Niin tosiaan onkin. Metsän
viihtyminen vaatii, että kesällä tulee olla kolme tai neljä kuukautta
verraten lämmintä säätä, s.o. näiden kuukausien keskimäärän yli
+10°; muut kuukaudet saavat sitten olla kylmiä. Kesälämpimillä
metsä kasvaa ja voimistuu. Monenlaisine itsekehittämine
suojakeinoineen se sitten kestää pitkänkin talven pakkaset.
Islannissapa ei ole niin lämpösiä kesäkuukausia, vaikkei ilmanalan

keskilämpö olekaan alhaisempi kuin vastaavan leveysasteitten
Suomessa. Islannin kesä on viileä, kolkko ja tuulinen. Ainoastaan
syvissä laaksoissa ja vuonojen pohjukoissa on kesällä lämpöisiäkin
päiviä, mutta ne lyhyeen päättyvät, sillä Islannin taivas on paljon
pilvisempi kuin Suomen. Etelärannan keskilämpö on sama kuin
Suomen etelärannan, noin +5°. Pohjoisrannan keskilämpö on
jotenkin sama kuin Lapin eteläosien. Mutta kesällä on Lappi
lämpöisempi maa kuin ainoakaan osa Islannista. Talvella tosin
Islanti, jonka kahden puolen Golf-virta työntelee vettään pohjoista
kohti, on Lappia lämpöisempi, yhtä lämpöinen kuin meidän maamme
lauhkeimmat osat, mutta talven Iauhkeus ei korvaa kasvikunnalle
sitä, mitä se kesän viileyden kautta menettää. Kuitenkin kasvoi
Islannissa siihen aikaan, kun se ensimäiset asukkaansa sai, nykyistä
enemmän metsää, mutta metsät hävitettiin, eivätkä ne ole päässeet
sen jälkeen uudestaan kasvamaan. Islantilaiset itse luulevat, että
saaren ilmasto on jonkun verran huonontunut historiallisella ajalla.
Islannin vallitsevat tuulet ovat itätuulet, ja ne ovatkin saaren

verraten lauhkean ilmanalan ehto. Mutta usein sattuu myös pitkällisiä
pohjoistuulia ja länsituulia, ja ne ovat sitä kylmemmät. Pohjoistuulet
kuljettavat joka talvi paljon jäitä Islannin rannikolle, sekä ajelehtivaa
merijäätä että jäävuoria, ja usein sattuu kesälläkin, että suuret
jäälautat moneksi ajaksi saartavat koko pohjoisrannan. Silloin on
sillä puolella kesä tavallistakin viileämpi ja ainaiset sumut peittävät
maan ja sama ilmastonmuutos vaikuttaa, vaikka vähemmässä
määrässä, saaren muittenkin osien ilmastoon. Nälänhätä ja puute
ovat silloin lähellä. Vuoden keskilämpö saattaa toisina vuosina olla
neljääkin astetta tavallista alempi.
Islannin ilmanala olisi kuitenkin siedettävä, ellei se samalla olisi

niin tuulinen. Tyynet auringonpaisteiset päivät ovat poikkeuspäiviä.
Usein tuulet kiihtyvät kamaliksi myrskyiksi. Keskellä kesääkin
saattaa saaren äkkiä yllättää myrsky, jonka kamalasta voimasta
meikäläisen on vaikea saada käsitystäkään. Varsinkin länsirannalla
on vuonoja, joitten pohjukassa myrskyllä on sanomaton raivo.
Semmoinen vuono on Reykjavikin pohjoispuolella Hvalfjördur, ja
varsinkin sen pohjukassa oleva Thyrill-vuoren seutu. Eräs
matkustaja kuvaa seuraavalla tavalla myrskyä, johon hän niillä
seuduin joutui kesäkuun puolivälissä: »Kuvauksemme tuntuisi
uskomattomalta, elleivät edellisetkin matkustajat olisi nähneet
samanlaisia myrskyjä. Jo aamulla, meidän matkaan suoriutuessa, oli
tuuli kova, mutta kun puolen päivän aikaan saavuimme vuonon
vedenjakajalle, niin tuuli yltyi niin kamalaksi, että sen rajuutta on
mahdoton sanoin kuvata. Tuskin pääsimme paikastakaan ja hengitys
kävi tukalaksi. Tilamme kävi suuressa määrin vaaralliseksi, kun
aloimme jyrkkää vuorenrinnettä laskeutua vuonon pohjaan. Myrsky
puhalsi kaakosta semmoisella voimalla, että se kiskasi erään
saattajamme satulasta ja uhkasi nakata hänet äkkijyrkänteen
partaan yli syvyyteen. Koko vuonon pinta muuttui myrskyn repimänä
hienoksi vesipölyksi, joka pilvenä kiiti tuulen mukana ja meille, jotka
olimme 600 metriä korkealla vuoren kupeella, tuntui hienona
sateena. Tässä tuulen nostamassa pilvessä häälyi mitä ihanin
sateenkaari, joka sillan tavoin liitti yhteen vuonon molemmat rannat.
Vielä iltapäivänkin myrsky raivosi samalla voimalla, illalla se vasta
alkoi asettua. Mutta noin neljän peninkulman päässä tästä vuonosta
oli rannikolla aivan tyyni.»
Varsinaisia hirmumyrskyjäkin sattuu, mutta onneksi kuitenkin
harvoin. Niitten voimasta kerrotaan, että ne kohottavat merestä
suuria vesipatsaita, paisuttavat rannat, patoavat jokia, niin että ne
alkavat juosta taaksepäin, pieksävät järvissä veden tomuksi,
kaatavat huoneita, nakkaavat kulkijan nurin ja pakottavat hänet käsin
ja jaloin, kynsin ja hampain pitämään maasta kiinni, jottei myrsky
veisi mukanaan.
Sangen haitallinen on eräänlainen pyörretuuli, joka paljaista

ylämaista tupruttaa ilmaan hiekkaa, pölyä, hohkakiveä ja vulkanista
tuhkaa ja ajaa sitä paksuina pilvinä asuttuihin rantaseutuihin ja
laaksoihin. Koko ilma pimenee mustaksi tai ruskahtavaksi, tuskin
eteensä näkee. Pöly tarttuu vaatteisiin, sitä tulee silmiin, suuhun, sitä
asettuu paljaille ihopaikoille ja tunkeutuu suljettuihin astioihinkin, sillä
se pääsee melkein näkymättömistä raoista sisään. Se turmelee
islantilaisen niukat ruokavarat ja muuttaa maidon hänen
maitokamarissaan iljettäväksi liejuksi. Toisinaan kova myrsky repii
tunturien kupeilta kiviäkin matkaansa, vyöryttää suuremmat alas
laaksoon ja kohottaa pienemmät ilmaan, josta ne satavat
rantamaassa laitumille.
Islannin ilmanala on verrattain sateista ja kosteaa. Syys ja talvi

varsinkin ovat sateiset, kevät ja kesä kuivemmat. Joka kolmas päivä
on sadepäivä, mutta pilvessä on taivas paljon enemmänkin. Aivan
päivänpaisteisia selkeitä päiviä on vain kesäsydännä. Sumut ovat
yleisiä; kun rannikolle ajautuu jäitä, ovat maat viikkoja yhteen mittaan
sumun kääreissä. Sumut ovat kylmät ja koleat. Mutta kun tuuli
kääntyy maan puolelle, niin ne hälvenevät. Silloin on maanrannoilla
usein kirkas sää, vaikka meri vähän matkan päässä on kauttaaltaan
usvan peitossa.
Islannin säitten omituisuuksia on, että samaan aikaan voi eri
osissa saarta vallita aivan erilaiset säät. Sama tuuli, joka yhdessä
paikassa on maatuuli, on nimittäin vastakkaisella, rannalla merituuli.
Usein vuorijonot kahden läheisen vuononkin välillä kokonaan
kääntävät ilmat. Vuorijonon tuulipuolella myrskyää ja sataa,
tuulensuojan puolella on tyyni ja kuiva ilma. Pohjoistuulilla on
pohjoisrannalla sumuiset, koleat säät ja kesälläkin voi sataa
lumiräntää, etelärannalla sitä vastoin ovat ilmat silloin selkeät ja
tyynet. Etelätuulella taas on etelärannalla sadetta, sumua ja tuulta,
pohjoisrannalla taas selkeät ja lämpöiset ilmat. Jos Islanti olisi
lakeata maata, niin ei erotusta sanottavasti tuntuisi, vaan sama sää
kulkisi saaren poikki. Mutta Islanti on kauttaaltaan korkeata, tuulien
täytyy mereltä maalle puhaltaessaan kohota melkoisesti.
Kohotessaan ne jäähtyvät ja samalla satavat alas kosteutta,
ylämaasta taas alaspäin laskeutuessaan lämpiävät ja kuivavat.
Mutta muutoin ovat Islannin säät tavattoman vaihtelevaiset.

Kaiken kesää sateet ja auringonpaisteet vaihtelevat niinkuin
keväällä. Keväällä ja syksyllä lisäksi sataa rakeita ja lunta, ja talvella
taas käy toisinaan ukkoset.
Islantilainen on sen vuoksi tottunut tarkkaan säänmerkkejä

huomaamaan. Hänen huomionsa enimmäkseen ovat sangen
luotettavat. Mutta hänen toimeentulonsa usein riippuukin siitä, että
hän ajoissa osaa ennustaa rajuilman ja kylmät ja varsinkin korjata
heinänsä. Islannin vapausajalla oli säänennustuksen taito suurimpia
viisauden lahjoja. Ilman tieto on ylen tärkeä kalastajillekin. Heidän
täytyy voida edeltäkäsin arvata myrskyt, sillä muutoin he pienissä
aluksissaan joutuvat merellä turmioon.
Vuodenaikain eroavaisuudet eivät ole Islannissa likimainkaan niin
jyrkät. Ennen vanhaan oli tapana vain erottaa talvi ja kesä.
Huhtikuun jälkipuoliskolla alkoi kesä, talvi lokakuun jälkipuoliskolla.
Huhtikuun 18 ja 25 päivän välistä torstaita pidettiin »ensimäisenä
kesäpäivänä», ja sitä vieläkin kautta saaren samana juhlitaan, vaikka
kesä harvoin silloin vielä on voimaansa näyttänyt ja lumimyrskyt ja
pakkaset vielä ovat tavallisia vieraita. Mainittuna torstaina on yhä
vielä tapana toivottaa toiselleen »hyvää kesää» ja antaa lahjoja,
»kesälahjoja». Silloin pannaan toimeen kaikenlaisia kisoja ja huveja
taivasalla, jos nimittäin sää on semmoista, että voidaan ulkona
oleskella.
Huhtikuun lopulla on etelämaalla lumi tavallisesti sulanut

laaksoista ja ruoho alkanut orastaa. Pohjoisrannalla sitä vastoin on
silloin vielä paksut kinokset, jotka vasta kesäkuun lopulla
merenrannaltakaan katoavat. Mutta usein on kesä sangen lyhyt ja
kylmä. Talvi alkaa lokakuun loppupuoliskolla, tuoden mukanaan
myrskyjä ja lumituiskuja ja vahvat pimeät. Mutta milloin
pohjoisrannalla on kesällä, vielä elokuun lopullakin ajojäitä, silloin ei
sillä puolella ole kesää kuin nimeksi, toinen talvi melkein
huomaamatta toistaan jatkaa. Merestä on silloin usein hyvä saalis,
mutta maalla tulee kato.
Ulkomaalaiset, jotka Islannissa käyvät ja enimmäkseen ovat

kotoisin paljon eteläisemmistä maista, ihailevat saaren outoja
valaistuksia. Pohjoisrannalla aurinko juhannuksen aikaan on
vuorokauden umpeensa taivaalla, matalimmillaan ollessaan näyttää
paikallaan lepäävän meren pinnalla, viileänä ja säteettömänä,
kunnes se jälleen alkaa nousta ja lämmittää. Etelämpänäkään ei
kesällä ole yötä, iltaruskot sulavat aamuruskoihin ja päivä liittyy
päivään. Talvella on sitä mukaan pimeätä, mutta Islannin ilman
puhtaus vaikuttaa, että kuutamo talvella on erinomaisen kirkas, niin
kirkas, että sen valossa voi kirjaa lukea, ja kuu silloin vuorostaan
kiertää taivaan kantta niin, että se tuskin ennättää ensinkään
mailleen mennä. Ja pitkät hämärät jatkavat päivää, niinkuin
yleensäkin pohjoisissa maissa. Talviyöt eivät sen vuoksi ole
likimainkaan niin pimeät, kuin saattaisi luulla.
Mutta Islannin taivaalla on vielä toisia ilmiöitä, jotka täyttävät

muukalaisen ihmetyksellä. Aamuruskot ja iltaruskot ovat verrattoman
kauniit. Eräs tutkimusmatkustaja niistä kertoo: »Mutta aamu- ja
iltaruskot kieltämättä ovat Islannin ihanimpia ilmiöitä. Ei ainoastaan
se puoli taivaasta ole hehkuvissa väreissä, jolla aurinko nousee ja
laskee, vaan koko taivaankansi rusottaa kullankarvaisessa
hohteessa ja mitä ihmeellisimmät pilvimuodostukset kummine
vaihtelevine värineen vaivuttavat meidät sanattomaan ihailuun.
Tuntuu siltä, kuin luonto juhlapäivän aattona leikillä loisi taivaalle
kaikenlaisia haaveellisia ilmiöitä, huvittaakseen ihmistä milloin
väännellyillä pilakuvilla, milloin ilmavilla kaukomaisemilla. Ainoastaan
se, joka on Sveitsissä nähnyt Alppiruskon, voi saada likimain
käsityksen Islannin aamu- ja iltaruskoista. Mutta Islannin
auringonlasku on verrattoman paljon kauniimpi, sillä se ei tyydy vain
korkeimpiin vuorenhuippuihin, kuten Sveitsissä, vaan valaa
purppuraisen rusotuksen koko maisemalle ja kestää paljon
kauemmin kuin Sveitsin ilmiö. Tosin Länsi-Islannin korkein vuori,
lumen ja jään peittämä Snaefellesjökul pitkällä niemellään kohoo
vain puolet siitä kuin Gotthardin vuori, mutta sen sijaan rusottaa sen
merestä kohoova keila ylt'yleensä auringon laskiessa ja se on kaiken
kaikkiaan näkö, jonka vertaista harvassa muualla näkee.
Juhannuksen aikaan se näkyy Faxavuonoon ihanimmassa
loistossaan. Jyrkästi eroaa häikäisevän valkoisesta
Snaefellesjökulista tumma kömpelö Esja, mustan basaltin päällä
siellä täällä tähteitä talven valkovaipasta. Sen takana kohottaa
Akrafell rosoista lakeaan ja parin saaren välitse soudellessamme
näemme vielä, taaksemme katsoessamme, etelässä Reykjavikin
takaa Seltjarnarnesin pitkän aaltoilevan tunturiselänteen, kaikki
poistuvan auringon ruskoissa. Niiden kaikkien valkoiselle otsalle
päivä painaa jäähyväissuutelonsa ja katoaa sitten Esjan taa, koko
taivaankannen loistaessa ihanimmin värein. Hiljaisuus on äänetön,
äänetön kuin ainoastaan pohjolassa. Airojen herättämät kareet vain
lipottavat veneen laitaa vastaan, muuta ei kuulu, joka häiritsisi tämän
pohjanperäisen maiseman ylevää hiljaisuutta. Tällä pohjolan levolla
on joku sanomaton tenho. Sen keskellä käsitämme, kuinka Islannin
runoilijat siitä viehättyivät lauluihin, jotka ovat pohjolan runouden
jaloimpia tuotteita. Käännämme jälleen veneemme maihin päin.
Tuskin olemme jalkamme astuneet kiviselle rannalle ja kääntyneet
vielä kerran katselemaan tarumaisessa valaistuksessa uinuvaa
luontoa, niin huomaammekin tunturien hehkuvan rusotuksen jo
kaikkialta kadonneen, värikkäitten pilvien jo muuttaneen lännen
taivaalta idän taivaalle ja niitten joukosta auringon uudelleen
kohoovan taivaalle. Onkin jo aamu. Aurinko laski Esjan läntiselle
puolelle, sen itäiseltä puolelta se jälleen nousee, tuskin paria tuntia
kestäneen yön jälkeen. Ja tämä yökin oli valoisa kuin päivä.»
Monta muuta kaunista ilmiötä on Islannin taivaalla. Niistä saa

omituisen sielukkaisuuden ja ylhäisen haaveellisuuden saaren jylhä
ja synkkä luonto. Toisinaan näkyy auringon ympärillä yhdeksänkin
harha-aurinkoa kehineen ja kehänkappaleineen, usein on sekä
auringon että kuun ympärillä värikkäät sapet. Talvella ovat revontulet
harvinaisen loistavat ja suuressa määrin valaisevat talviöiden
pimeyttä. Omituinen, meillä tuntematon ilmiö on meriloisto, joka
usein näkyy rannikolla. Meren päällä silloin häälyy omituisia hohtavia
pilviä, jotka saavat valonsa meren loisteesta, fosforescensi-ilmiöstä.
Mutta islantilaiset kalastajat luulevat pilvien saavan valonsa suurien
rantaa lähestyvien silliparvien kajastuksesta. Erinomaisen kauniit
kangastukset kuuluvat niinikään Islannin luonnon viehätyksiin. Niitä
nähdään monessa paikassa sisämaassa, esim. Thingvalla-järven
seuduilla.
Olemme tähän saakka oleskelleet ainoastaan rannikolla, jossa

tunturien juurella ovat alavat ruohomaat ja asutukset. Mahtavina
muureina kohoo kapeasta rantavyöstä saaren varsinainen runko.
Koko sisämaa on laaja ylänkö, lännestä matalampi, itäpuolelta
korkeampi. Se on jotenkin yhtenäinen kappale, vaikka tosin vuonot
leikkaavatkin siihen syvälle joka puolella paitsi etelärannalla, ja
vuonojen päistä vielä laaksotkin.
Ainoastaan Lounais-Islanti on matalampaa maata. Siellä sen

vuoksi on asutuksia kauempanakin merenrannasta. Muutoin on koko
sisämaa kauttaaltaan autiota. Ilmanala, joka jo rannikolla on kolkkoa,
on sisämaassa niin kylmää, ett'eivät siellä viihdy muuta kuin kaikkein
vaatimattomimmat kasvit. Islannin sisäosat ovat autiointa, mutta
samalla ihmeellisintäkin erämaata, mitä niin pohjoisissa seuduissa
on koko maan pinnalla. Tuntureilla on laajat jäätiköt, joitten rinnalla
Norjan suurimmatkin jäätiköt jäävät vähäisiksi, ja niiden rinnalla
tulivuoria, laavaerämaita ja kuumia lähteitä. Maajää-ilmiöt ja
tuliperäiset ilmiöt ovat siellä ihmeellisemmässä yhteydessä kuin
missään muualla maan päällä.
Islanti onkin jo vanhastaan tunnettu tulivuoristaan,

laavavirroistaan, lämpöisistä lähteistään, lieju-vulkaneistaan ja
maanjäristyksistään. Ken ei olisi kuullut Heklasta ja Geisiristä. Jo
keskiajalla Islannin tulivuoret olivat maineessa kautta Europan. Niistä
oli liikkeellä mitä ihmeellisimpiä juttuja ja vanhoissa
munkkikronikoissa ja teologisissa kirjotuksissa erikoisella nautinnolla
kerrottiin niistä kamalia juttuja. Heklaa pidettiin helvetin porttina ja
luultiin sen lieskassa näkyvän tuomittujen sieluja, joita kärvennettiin
helvetin tulessa. Merimiehet väittivät nähneensä Islannin merellä
aavelaivoja mustin purjein, joissa kadotukseen tuomittuja sieluja
vietiin Heklaan. Melankhtonin vävykin kertoi vielä, että Heklan
ympäristössä penikulman piirissä saattoi kuulla, kuinka tuomitut sen
sisässä vaikeroivat pimeyden ruhtinaan heitä kiduttaessa. Heklan
liekeissä luultiin korppien ja aarnien lentelevän ja rääkyvän, ja kun
niitä näkyi, niin tiesi se sotaa tai murhaa. Tämä käsitys Islannin
tulivuorista piti kauan puoliaan, mutta saarella itsellään ne eivät ole
antaneet aihetta sanottaviin taikaluuloihin.
Islannin on olemassa olostaan kiittäminen etupäässä näitä

vulkanisia voimia. Se on rakennettu vanhoista ja uusista vulkanisista
kallioisista. Merenreunassa tunturien seinämät ovat selvään
portaalliset rakenteeltaan. Ne ovat muodostuneet laavapankoista,
joita eri aikoina on valunut päällekkäin. Lähes kahdeksasosa saaren
pinnasta on niin nuorien laavavirtain peitossa, ettei niille ole juuri
mitään vielä päässyt kasvamaan. Täysi kahdeksasosa on
maajäätikköjen peitossa. Loput sisämaan ylängöstä on soramaita,
lentohietikoita, paljaita kallioita ja tuntureita. Syvänteissä on siellä
täällä järviä ja soita. Ylängöillä ovat lumituiskut kesälläkin tavalliset ja
säänmuutokset tapahtuvat äkkiä ja rajusti. Ainoastaan neljästoista
Islannin koko pinta-alasta on alankomaata.
Suurin osa Islannista on muodostunut tummasta vuorilajista, jota

sanotaan basaltiksi. Kun purjehditaan pitkin Islannin rannikkoa,
varsinkin pitkin itärantaa, niin ovat basalttitunturien muodot hyvin
silmiin pistävät. Mahtavina, noin 600 metriä korkeina muureina ne
kohoovat rantavyöstä melkein äkkijyrkkään, päältä tasaisina,
syrjässä siellä täällä rotkoja ja torneja. Nämä tunturimuurit ovat
rakennetut sadastakin vaakasuorasta tai hieman kaltevasta
kerroksesta, joita toisinaan toisistaan erottaa ohuet punaiset saumat.
Basalttikerrokset ovat aikanaan olleet kukin vuorostaan sula
laavavirta, joka on tulivuorista valunut. Punaiset saumat taas ovat
tulivuorenpurkauksissa satanutta kuonaa ja tuhkaa.
Basalttikerroksien syrjät vähän taantuvat sitä myöden kuin muuri
kohoo, niin että koko tunturiseinämä näyttää suunnattomalta
portaalta. Siitä syystä basaltteja ennen vanhaan sanottiinkin
»trapiksi», vaikka tämä sana on joutunut pois käytännöstä. Alkuaan
ovat basalttiylängöt olleet päältä aivan lakeat ja muodostaneet
tasangon, joka on hyvin monesta päällekkäin valuneesta
laavavirrasta vähitellen rakentunut. Vähitellen on meri aalloillaan
murtanut reunoja ja leikannut ne jyrkiksi. Vuonoja ja laaksoja on
muodostunut aaltojen ja jäävirtain vaikutuksesta, ja osaksi maan
vajoamisenkin kautta. Ylätasanko on sen kautta vähitellen jakautunut
teräviin selänteihin ja huippuihin, joista korkeimmilla on kesälläkin
lunta. Nämä basalttirannat ovat kolkon ja synkän näköiset, mutta
vuonoissa maiseman luonne on lauhkeampaa. Siellä on tunturien
juurella matala vyö ja mehevän vihannista niityistä loistavat talojen
valkoiset päädyt.
Toisin paikoin basalttivuorien mustia värejä keskeyttää

vaaleammat rinteet ja kellertävät tai rusottavat kukkulat. Tämä
vaaleampi väri ilmaisee toista purkautunutta vuorilajia, jota sanotaan
»liparitiksi». Sitä on basaltin välissä siellä täällä, toisin paikoin
suuriakin aloja. Basaltti on tulivuoresta valuessaan verraten vetelää.
Se leviää sen vuoksi helposti laajalle alalle, jota vastoin liparitti on
kankeata ja jää suuriksi röykkiöiksi. Liparitti on hyvin vaihtelevaa
väriltään ja semmoiset vuoret, joissa se on vallitsevana, ovat sen
vuoksi merkillisen moniväriset ja kirjavat. Missä liparitti on nopeaan
jäähtynyt, siellä se muodostaa mustaa vulkanista lasia, »obsidiania»,
missä taas vesihöyryjen vaikutuksesta hyvin hottoa ja sienimäistä,
siellä sen väri on vaaleata. Semmoinen liparitti on jokaiselle
tunnettua hohkakiveä. Liparittilaavavirrat ovat etäältä nähden kuin
suuria pikimustia kivihiiliröykkiöitä. Pinta on lasiterävää, kiiltävää ja
kimmeltävää obsidiania, jonka väri jyrkästi eroo melkein
lumivalkoisesta hohkakivikuonasta. Mutta sisältä laavavirta on
harmaata taikka punaisenruskeata, ja pinta on täynnään suuria
halkeamia, joita erottavat toisistaan terävät lasiharjanteet. Moisen
laavavirran poikki on sangen vaikea kulkea. Syviä pimeitä rotkoja ja
särmäisiä teräviä lasisärkkiä on toinen toisensa vieressä ja kynsin
hampain saa niissä tepastella yli kulkiessaan. Toisin paikoin on
liparittilaavavirroissa suuria kallionkappaleita, jotka purkaus on
puolisulaneina tuonut mukanaan syvemmistä kerroksista.
Semmoisia laavavirtoja on varsinkin itärannalla.
Keskellä Islantia on vielä kolmannen laatuista kallioista, jota

sanotaan palagonittituffiksi. Se on vanhain tulivuorien purkamaa
tuhkaa ja kuonaa, joka on kiintynyt kiveksi. Tämän kallioisen muoto
ja väri vaihtelevat suuresti. Toiset tuffit ovat hyvin hienoa, toiset
karkearakenteista kiveä. Tavallisesti ne ovat väriltään
ruskeanpunaisia tai kellertäviä. Semmoiset tunturit, jotka ovat
palagonittituffia, ovat hyvin rapautuvia. Tuuli, sade ja pakkanen niitä
helposti hajottavat. Ne sen vuoksi enimmäkseen ovat matalia ja
pyöreitä, jota vastoin basalttikukkuloilla on terävät särmät ja huiput.
Palagonittituffi kulkee leveänä vyöhykkeenä saaren keskitse
pohjoisesta etelään, ja melkein kaikki nykyiset tulivuoret ovat tässä
vyöhykkeessä. Niissä seuduin, joissa perustus on tätä kallioista, on
pinnalla sen vuoksi paljon kraatereita, tavallisesti monta samassa
jonossa, ja laavavirtoja.
Erinomaisen vaihtelevaisia ovat kaikessa kaameudessaan ne
ilmiöt, joita Islannin sisäosissa tapaamme. Kuumia lähteitä ja ilmaan
suihkuvia geisirejä on kautta maan. Niistä ovat molemmat geisirit
saaren lounaisosassa jo vanhastaan kaikille tuttavat. Ne ovat lähellä
melkoista Hvitaata, verraten matalalla lakeudella, jonka vesi-
ilmiöissä joka puolella näkee maanalaisen tulen vaikutuksia. Maasta
kohoo valkoisia höyrypatsaita ja pieniä matalia vesisuihkuja, mutta
molemmat pääsuihkut ovat verraten harvoin toimessa ja näyttävät
aikovan kokonaan asettua. Ne maanalaiset voimat, jotka kautta
vuosisatain ja ehkä vuosituhansienkin ovat Isoa geisiriä ja Strokkuria
voimassa pitäneet, ovat uupumassa. Iso geisiri useimmiten pettää
matkailijat, jotka nykyisin sen luo tulevat, ja ainoastaan
keinotekoisella ärsytyksellä se saadaan purkautumaan. Jos nimittäin
geisirin kitaan nakataan melkoinen määrä saippuaa, niin seuraa siitä
purkaus. Nämä kuumat suihkulähteet ovat syviä kirnuja maan
pinnassa, joitten seinät ovat piittyneet sileäksi vahvaksi
kivennäiskuoreksi. Niitten vesi on pinnaltaan kiehuvaa ja sitä
kuumempaa kuta syvemmällä. Syvemmällä nimittäin päällä olevan
veden paino estää vettä höyryksi muuttumasta. Mutta kun alempien
vesikerroksien kuumuus kohoo niin korkeaksi, että sittenkin vettä
muuttuu höyryksi, niin tämä höyry kohottaa päällä olevaa
vesipatsasta. Alempien vesikerroksien kantama kuorma samalla
vähenee, ja seuraus siitä on, että suuret määrät ylikuumaa vettä
äkkiä kuin räjähdyksen kautta muuttuu höyryksi. Vesi syöksyy päällä
olevan veden läpi ja sinkoo ilmaan korkeana suihkupatsaana, taikka
lukemattomina säteinä, mukanaan suuria pyöreitä höyrypilviä.
Toisinaan säde kohoo kolmekymmentä metriä korkealle ja
korkeammallekin. Purkaus uudistuu monta kertaa yhteen mittaan,
kunnes kirnussa voimat ovat tasaantuneet ja vesi jälleen asettuu
hiljalleen poreilevaksi pinnaksi odottamaan uutta purkausta, johon

Emassfile 7332

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Emassfile 7332

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

The Palgrave Companion to Chicago

Economics Robert A Cord

The Palgrave Companion to Oxford Economics 1st Edition

The New Palgrave Dictionary of Economics Palgrave

The Chicago Guide to Fact-Checking, (Chicago Guides to

Prince of Chaos: A Chicago Underground Novel (The

The Palgrave Handbook of Global Sustainability Robert

The Palgrave Handbook of International Energy Economics

A Companion to Aeschylus Peter Burian

The New Palgrave Dictionary of Economics 3rd Edition

Edited by Robert A. Cord

ISBN 978-3-031-01491-8 ISBN 978-3-031-01775-9 (eBook)

Part I Themes in Chicago Economics 1

6 I nformation at Chicago 123

Part II Some Chicago Economists 149

12 J acob Viner (1892–1970) 275

Figure 34.1 Compensating price differential 875

Table 2.1 Doctoral dissertations in economic history relative to doctoral

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 3

debates, controversies and people. In order to make it easier to read, we have

2 The Department in the 1940s and 1950s:

ence in emphasis. For me, it was sufficient when working on an

mined in international markets. And the doings in this country

3 The Workshops System

5 Partial Versus General Equilibrium

6 Governance of the Department

just being on all those committees is a major contribution. In terms of

10 The “Chicago Boys”

an hour with Pinochet, he never advised the government. He added that

undergraduate work in Israel, either at Hebrew or at Tel Aviv. People

11 The Advantage of the Chicago Department

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 21

2 The Early Years, 1892–1906: Laughlin,

interventionist orientation, there were other economists with a distinctly his-

In contrast with the general waning of economic history in the United

3 Wright and the Functional Approach

4 Knight and Nef: Contrasting Views

Table 2.1 Doctoral dissertations in economic history relative to doctoral dissertations

correspondence that remain from the deliberations over finding a replace-

issues as to whether there was a significant historical dimension to the study

Knight thus stands at a fundamental turning point in political economy. He

An important issue for further consideration, then, is whether Knight’s

himself has been acknowledged as an important influence on the develop-

The attempt to establish historical interrelationships is inviting to the artistic

Nef acknowledged that economic history on the surface might seem to be

In a 1960 memo to a Rockefeller Foundation programme officer, Nef sum-

Tawney, not surprisingly, since he was his dissertation mentor, exerted a

Paljon hankaluutta tuottaa islantilaisille se seikka, että polttoaineita

Ruuasta ei Islannissa sitä vastoin ole niinkään puutetta, vaikk'ei

Tarkkaan on islantilainen siis tottunut hyväkseen käyttämään

Ennen vanhaan lienee Islannissa viljelty joku määrä viljaa, mutta

Islannin tärkein elinkeino on karjanhoito. Viljaa kasvattamaan maa

Tunturilaitumilla lammaslaumat usein hajaantuvat ja eksyvät, ja

Islannissa ennen vanhaan pidettiin suuria nautakarjoja, mutta ne

Mutta vaikka Islannissa hevonen on niin välttämätön, niin saa se

Tämmöistä on siis nykyisin jokapäiväinen elämä Islannissa.

Mutta vaikka islantilainen onkin vanhastaan muuttunut, niin on

Islantilainen on keskikokoa, jotenkin lujarakenteinen, hartiat leveät,

Islannin eteläkärki on jotenkin samalla leveysasteella kuin Vaasa.

Islannissapa ei ole niin lämpösiä kesäkuukausia, vaikkei ilmanalan

Islannin vallitsevat tuulet ovat itätuulet, ja ne ovatkin saaren

Islannin ilmanala olisi kuitenkin siedettävä, ellei se samalla olisi

Sangen haitallinen on eräänlainen pyörretuuli, joka paljaista

Part I Themes in Chicago Economics 1

6 I nformation at Chicago 123

Part II Some Chicago Economists 149

12 J acob Viner (1892–1970) 275

Figure 34.1 Compensating price differential 875

2 The Department in the 1940s and 1950s:

3 The Workshops System

5 Partial Versus General Equilibrium

6 Governance of the Department

10 The “Chicago Boys”

11 The Advantage of the Chicago Department

2 The Early Years, 1892–1906: Laughlin,

3 Wright and the Functional Approach

4 Knight and Nef: Contrasting Views