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“In the history of science and that of ideas, the thickness of time is not uniform.”

- John A. Goldsmith and Bernard Laks, Battle in the Mind Fields

“Part of the problem is the extraordinary place economics currently holds in the social sciences. In many ways it is treated as a kind of master discipline. Just about anyone who runs anything important in America is expected to have some training in economic theory, or at least to be familiar with its basic tenets. As a result, [its] tenets have come to be treated as received wisdom, as basically beyond question (one knows one is in the presence of received wisdom when, if one challenges it, the first reaction is to treat one as simply ignorant — ‘You obviously have never heard of the Laffer Curve’; 'Clearly you need a course in Economics 101’ — the theory is seen as so obviously true that no one who understands it could possibly disagree.)”
- David Graeber, Debt: The First 5,000 Years

I read the news stories and never know quiet how much is hype and how much is reality. I’m highly uncertain about what the economic pay-off to AI is.”
- Paul Krugman, The Wolf-Krugman Exchange

As a student, I worked security at the Oxford Union Society, which mostly consisted of checking member cards at the door of the debate club and its bar. Occasionally, I had to eject an inebriated socialite or aristocrat from a wood paneled library. Most nights were slow, so I’d pick up The New York Times and Financial Times before my shift. I’d browse the headlines during lulls, but paid special attention to the economics columns. Back then, Martin Wolf and Paul Krugman were towering figures. Both were major advocates of globalization in the fin de siècle Anglosphere. Krugman’s New Trade Theory was received wisdom. He literally wrote the textbook I used in international economics. To disagree with him implied one didn’t understand economics, at least in my tutorials at Oxford. This was unfortunate for both Krugman and the field of economics. Interestingly, this was before he won the Nobel Prize, but obviously after the John Bates Clark Medal.

Wolf and Krugman recently had a few conversations and shared them as podcast episodes. The two towers provide some much-needed illumination in dark times. But their fourth exchange centered entirely around artificial intelligence, a topic on which neither is an expert. It was disappointing. I hope they’ll take up the topic again in the future, but prepare more first.

Their conversation disappointed me because there’s so much more substance Krugman could have offered, but didn’t. In particular, I’m surprised he didn’t say more about DeepSeek and US-China relations or the potential efficacy of US controls on the export of advanced graphics processing units from NVIDIA. He didn’t even touch on TSMC and Taiwan’s geopolitical importance or speculate about America’s prospects for reshoring semiconductor production.

Surely, there was plenty of good in the conversation. But it recalled a passage from Battle in the Mind Fields, Goldsmith and Lak’s delightful history of linguistics. “Isaiah Berlin, the most profound raconteur one would ever hope to meet, wrote about his life in philosophy, and he put his finger on an interesting phenomenon that is not at all uncommon, and by its very nature involves the group within which one works–and in part, but only in part, its size. He wrote about what happens when one chooses an artificially small and personal group of associates to serve as one’s intellectual cohort…

"One of the shortcomings of these meetings is something that seems to me to apply to Oxford philosophy in general, at least in those days. We were excessively self-centered. The only persons whom we wished to convince were our own admired colleagues. There was no pressure upon us to publish. Consequently, when we succeeded in gaining from one of our philosophical peers acceptance or even understanding of some point which we regarded as original and important, whether rightly or, as was more often the case at any rate with me, in a happy state of delusion, this satisfied us completely, too completely. We felt no need to publish our ideas, for the only audience which was worth satisfying was the handful of contemporaries who lived near us, and whom we met with agreeable regularity.”
- Isaiah Berlin, Personal Impressions

Philosophy of Science and AI were my focus at Oxford, but it was a great place to study economics, and I read the subject extensively while I was there. In my career, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about economics and AI, both abstractly and in negotiations. In their conversations, Wolf sometimes comes off as an energetic Oxford apprentice eagerly thinking through multiple possibilities, and Krugman as a seasoned and respected don, nervous to be on the wrong side of history, uncertain yet about what to say. While both seem hung over from web3, Wolf is enthusiastically prepared to tackle many subjects within the scope of AI. His interlocutor, not so much. I understand that Krugman is not an expert on AI specifically and that economics is a dismally inexact science. Krugman even says so. But as much as he takes pains to explain how the manufacturing sector took 40 years to fully adopt electricity, it took economists a hundred years to figure out how to conceptualize the impact of technological innovation. (For his work on Endogenous Growth Theory, Paul Romer shared the 2018 Nobel Prize in Economics.)

Krugman is right to point out that the future is broadly uncertain. But clearly, AI is not crypto. He is right to point out that AI consumes vast amounts of capital and power, to admit that if they are “stochastic parrots, they do really useful stuff.” And to compare its potential impact on knowledge work to the impact that technological innovation had on the coal industry. And he’s right to point out the potential impact of Deep Research on finance-focused cities like New York and London. And he’s right to point out the curious and sudden collapse of the employment market for young graduates, including from top computer science programs and elite universities.

But Ethan Mollick et al’s collaborative research with BCG on the jagged edge of AI, plus the rapid pace of improvement of performance of newer models combined with the declining cost of inference, suggest that the shock could eventually spread and become secular. Krugman is a professor and an economist. Still, he has honed a polemical style through popular writing and there’re many ways for an economist to lend relevant insights on the subject. Instead, we got banal provocations like “Turing was wrong.” Meanwhile, they don’t use the phrase human-in-the-loop even once.

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Back when I was a student, it was an essay on the philosophy of artificial intelligence that accompanied the application that won me admission. Specifically, I designed an alternative to the Turing Test. This is just to say: a) I appreciate Krugman’s intelligence and capacity to contribute to the discourse and b) I’ve also disagreed with Turing for a long time. But I think the evidence that this time is different has been building up, so he could do a lot better if he knows where to look. There’s plenty of precedent from other economists who have deployed the tools of their profession to better understand the new technology and its impact.

For instance, three economists working with the Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis, shared research on the speed of adoption of generative AI in comparison to personal computing and the Internet. It took 3 years for PCs to penetrate to 20 percent of American adults. The Internet reached the 20% mark in 2 years, i.e. 33% faster. In less than 2 years, ChatGPT was adopted by 40% of American adults, i.e. double the penetration of the Internet in less time. What’s particularly funny about this recent working paper from the St. Louis Fed is that it perfectly functions as an update to Paul A. David’s 1990 paper, “The Dynamo and the Computer: An Historical Perspective on the Modern Productivity Paradox”, which Krugman specifically cites, while ignoring Paul Romer’s paper that was published the same year.

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Douglass North once said that, after winning the Nobel Prize, people seemed afraid to disagree with him. And that worried him. Before the prize, North couldn’t get folks to listen to him about the topics on which he was an expert. After winning, he was taken to be infallible, even in fields where he had little background knowledge. (Krugman won the Nobel in 2008.)

I wouldn’t call it epistemic trespassing, but one of the valid concerns we have about new technologies is that they encourage us to be lazy. At a moment when the world’s only super power has imposed sanctions on the world’s most valuable company specifically designed to slow down the progress in AI research of its chief national rival (i.e. NVIDIA had to invent the H20 chip just for China); when the world’s wealthiest companies and people are deploying massive shares of their capital on video game chips and city-scale power supply to engage in a race to superintelligence; where GPUs allow humans to convert electricity into intelligence, but where the quality of intelligence output is directly correlated with the talent of those who train and fine tune one’s models - in such a moment, we need our greatest minds to not be lazy.

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Even more breathtaking than the rate of user growth has been the pace of improvement of LLMs. In late 2023, the most advanced models were achieving less than 10% proficiency on SWE-bench. In May 2025, OpenAI’s o3-high (their frontier reasoning model) achieved 85% success on SWE-bench tasks on eight attempts. This is junior programmer level intelligence.

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Last year, the Palmyra-Fin model passed the CFA Level II exam and received a score of 73% on the Level III, better than most humans, on a 0-shot attempt. These are not trivial achievements. And the models keep getting better. We’re literally running out of tests. The benchmarks are almost all saturated.

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As performance has improved, costs have come down substantially. Aspiring analysts in London, New York, and Cambridge would be right to fret.

The DeepSeek slump in early 2025 demonstrated both that the US does not have a monopoly on AI research breakthroughs and raises the question: Are American frontier labs wasting compute? With DeepSeek V3, we saw that one can achieve frontier level performance with FP8 rather than FP64 precision. R1 demonstrated that further jumps in performance could be achieved through throwing compute at the problem during test time, so the scaling law will not hit any walls any time soon. (Wolf drew the exact opposite conclusion from the evidence.)

As we move from an emphasis on pre-training to inference, to satisfy our ever-hungrier and ever-larger language models with synthetic data, increased memory and interconnects will become more important than raw processing capacity. The gated H20 chips that have been designed for the Chinese market are constrained on processing power, ie fewer FLOPs over time. But if the paradigm is shifting to reasoning, and DeepSeek has demonstrated that frontier level performance can be achieved with less precision, then the export restrictions are based on false premises. What will matter more in the future is memory. And the H20 chips actually have MORE memory than the export restricted H100s.

The world has changed much. And it will continue to change with increasing speed. If GPUs allow us to convert electrons into intelligence, then we still have to convert that intelligence into knowledge, and that knowledge into productivity. But that’s not the question. The question is how will we adapt to a world wherein one superhuman-in-the-loop can do the work of 1000 knowledge workers. To address such questions, we need more humans like Krugman in the loop.

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The first experimental psychology lab in the United States was established at Johns Hopkins University in 1883, by G. Stanley Hall, five years after he was awarded the first American doctorate in psychology. He is pictured below, in the front row, seated between Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung. 

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While Freud and Jung are well-known today, Hall is more often forgotten. He was influential before psychology emerged as a distinct scientific discipline, a significant figure from its pre-history, when modern American graduate education began to take shape in the late 1800s. It’s worth researching the story of Hall and his laboratory, not only because it reveals a lot about American higher education and the history of science, but also because the history of psychology was re-written many years later. 

If you’ve read Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams or Jung’s Man and His Symbols, you probably noticed how philosophical their work can be. This was characteristic of the age. Of the first three PhDs that were awarded in the U.S., at Yale’s convocation in 1861, one of those was in “philosophy and psychology.” Seventeen years later, Hall got the first free-standing psychology PhD in America, at Harvard.

Until the 1930s psychology faculty at Harvard taught as members of the philosophy department. The wall between the two fields was low. Hall was a product of this milieu. He contributed to philosophy and psychology like his predecessors Wilhelm Wundt and William James, founders of “the new psychology,” both of whom Hall studied with. Wundt founded the more “experimental” arm of psychology, based on physiology and psychophysics, and from Wundt’s lab at the University of Leipzig Hall eventually imported methods replicated in Baltimore. But all three figures remained engaged in philosophy as well as psychology throughout their lives. How did the two disciplines come to be so separate?

It turns out that a professor who popularized this Gestalt psychology image, and the Cold War, played big roles in that breakup story, when the history of psychology was rewritten.

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The quote below was extracted from Wilhelm Wundt and the Making of Scientific Psychology edited by RW Rieber. Titchener was tenured in the Sage School of Philosophy at Cornell, where he set up their psychology lab, and E.G. Boring was his student. Boring became the first chair of the liberated psychology department at Harvard in 1936.

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@eastbayarchive and i took a group of kids on a hike up the berkeley hills as part of a program we’re calling the Natural Explorers Club - i’ve been reading “last child in the woods” and decided to create some experiences for jude that integrate nature and community - we managed to squeeze in some local history, navigation with a map using nsew orientation, plus plant identification while having fun / getting cardiovascular exercise - grateful to jacob clark for volunteering and hoping this is the first of many adventures with these natural explorers

My cousin and best friend since childhood passed away recently. He was my personal hero and the closest to a brother I ever got. A social worker, focused on at-risk youth, he helped people convert the violence of the past into appreciation for the now and hope for the future. Juan Diego was a font of love.

Our late night phone calls over the pandemic covered mostly moral psychology and fatherhood. He was entrepreneurial since our teenage years, but his incredible competitiveness was more than matched and moderated by his compassion. On the phone, he encouraged me to write more. So I wrote about our talks.

That body of work captured the interest of academics at some major research universities, including at Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. He didn’t care about academia. He was unmoved by prestige. I was invited to speak, to a conference at the University of Barcelona, about what grew from our hours long conversations. I told him.

“That’s cool,” he said. “But tell me about your son.” It was his way of keeping me focused on the most important subject: family. He eventually read an early draft of what I wrote and told me it made him cry. That research needs more revision before publication, and I will have to do it alone. It is my turn to weep.

Grief is having someone you love and want desperately to speak with on the other side of a wall, under the same roof, and not being able to find a door into the room they are in.

On the flight to eulogize him, I sat next to a banker, who worked at Bear Stearns during its final days. We talked about how the future is unlikely to look like the past. That would mean biases like prestige will have less heuristic value. Diego was always miles ahead of the smartest guys in the room, but never bragged about it.

Below I share a couple of book reviews I wrote at the request of an editor friend. They partially relate to Diego’s POV and are relevant to the conversation with the banker.

Slapped by the Invisible Hand: The Panic of 2007 by Gary B. Gorton. Oxford University Press. $34.95 (240p) ISBN 978-0-19-973415-3

Gary Gorton offers his assessment of the causes of the financial crisis and suggests some solutions to prevent its recurrence. A professor of finance at Yale, his research has focused on asset pricing, financial crises and banking panics, and receives high praise from Ben Bernanke. The [former] Chairman of the U.S. Federal Reserve Board has cited him on more than one occasion [see notes 1 and 2]. Although primarily employed as an academic, in 1996 Gorton began advising executives at AIG Financial Products on positions which would have driven AIG into bankruptcy were it not for a government bailout in September 2008 [see note 3].

In the process of developing his thesis that the crisis was essentially an institutional run on banks, Gorton supplies tutorials on everything from the workings of the shadow banking system [38-45] and subprime mortgages [65-82] to the structure of exotic financial products including residential mortgage-backed securities [82-94] and collateralized debt obligations [97-108]. He concludes with policy prescriptions lacking in the sort of distance one might expect from an academic. Most prominent is his suggestion that senior debt of off-balance sheet entities, which were created by major financial institutions in part to dodge capital reserve requirements [40-1] and whose bonds are now widely used as collateral in the overnight repo markets [27], should be guaranteed by the government [59].

While his narrative begins with an elegantly persuasive description of shadow banking, his “viewpoint that the details matter” [2] might have caused him to fill the book with painstaking amounts of it. Still, he fails to provide much clarity on the overarching issues which caused the panic. It is much like having a doctor explain to you in passionate detail how your liver functions, but not explaining the likely consequences of continuing the habit of downing a bottle of Scotch every night before bed. It is also peculiar that Gorton does not address his involvement in the decisions that eventually brought AIG down to its knees.

His treatment leaves one asking whether he appreciated the systemic consequences of tail risks. Had he mapped out follow on effects such as margin calls in a mark-to-market environment? Or does he think that’s not his job? Gorton does not say.

Notes:

1. Ignatius, David. “Quiet Tiger at the Fed,” Washington Post. May 28, 2009. URL: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/05/27/AR2009052702907.html

2. Bernanke, Ben. “Reflections on a Year of Crisis,” Comments delivered by the Chairman of the Federal Reserve System at Federal Reserve Bank of Kansas City’s Annual Economic Symposium, Jackson Hole, Wyoming. August 21, 2009. URL: http://www.federalreserve.gov/newsevents/speech/bernanke20090821a.htm#fn173. Mollenkamp, Carrick, Serena Ng, Liam Pleven and Randall Smith. “Behind AIG’s Fall, Risk Models Failed to Pass Real-World Test,” The Wall Street Journal. October 31, 2008. URL: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB122538449722784635.html


The Lords of Strategy: The Secret Intellectual History of the New Corporate World by Walter Kiechel III. Harvard Business Press. $26.95 cloth (352 pages) ISBN 978-1-59139-782-3

Kiechel, the former managing editor of Fortune and author of Office Hours [published in 1989], saw publication of this book about strategy consulting  pushed back several times.  Through the years-long delays he managed to more fully chronicle the history of business strategy as both an intellectual discipline and an industry [see notes 1 and 2]. After almost 20 years at Fortune, Kiechel moved to Harvard Business Publishing, where he witnessed up-close the conveyer belt-like manner in which business ideas were submitted by professors and freelancers, then polished and broadcast by the staff of editors at Harvard Business Review [see note 3]. As one consultant whose rate was up to $20,000 per day testified to Kiechel, a well-received article published in HBR could garner one to two years in client projects (or between $7.3 million and $14.6 million worth in consulting fees) for a freelance strategist [243]. Unfortunately for HBR’s salaried editors, who helped polish those ideas for publication, they didn’t see a cut of the eventual consulting fees. 

For the author, the rise of business strategy as a discipline constitutes “the bit-by-bit creation of the first comprehensive paradigm [to pull] together all the elements most vital for a company to take into account if it is to compete, win, and survive” [1]. As the assembled elements for a new intellectual foundation came together, it became possible to profitably market strategy consulting services to managers. The four individuals Kiechel most associates with the discipline’s maturation include a professor (Michael Porter) who transformed the curriculum at Harvard Business School, the founders (Bruce Henderson and Bill Bain) of two of the three top consulting firms (BCG and Bain), and the most influential managing director (Fred Gluck) in the history of the undisputed industry leader, McKinsey & Co.

The author begins in the difficult early years of the industry, when Bruce Henderson founded the Management Consulting Division of the Boston Safe Deposit and Trust Company, as its sole employee in 1963. This was the era when concepts such as the “experience curve” and “growth-share matrix” were first developed, and consultants struggled to market their ideas to corporate executives. These ideas, now covered in all standard MBA curricula, were developed outside the walls of the academy at the Boston Consulting Group and were later imported by the academy–after the field of business strategy became better understood and respected. 

Boom times for the industry began around 1982, “in an era when it sometimes seemed all the business press could talk about was the superiority of the Japanese,” and the year that In Search of Excellence was first published by Tom Peters and Robert Waterman, two McKinsey consultants [144]. At around that time, the leading firm’s revenues approached $250 million and by 1987, McKinsey’s revenues had doubled to $500 million [260]. By this time, consultants from the three major strategy firms were coaching executives at nearly every one of the Fortune 500 companies on the significance of costs, experience, efficiency, intellectual capital, innovation and the magic of leverage. By 2008, the industry leaders’ sales were estimated to be $6 billion [see note 4]. By Kiechel’s account, only about fifteen to twenty percent of revenue for strategy consulting firms now comes from consulting on strategy [262]. The days of the pure-play strategy consultant and consulting firm are passed. Today, these firms must supplement strategy with services in logistics, technology, and human resource management. And they must deepen their expertise in the needs of particular industries like health care and pension funds.

On the question of whether anyone at the Big 3 is to blame for the global financial collapse of the late 2000s, Kiechel says, the “sharper-elbowed of the Wall Street houses had never had much use for strategy consultants, peopled as the former are with "deal guys and the transaction-minded” [311]. This statement is silly. Although most of the major investment banks have in-house strategy units, these groups are often populated with Big 3 alumni and many of the major banks made regular use of the strategy firms prior to the crisis [see note 5].  Also, Kiechel is silent on the effect of accounting innovations which increased uncertainty during the panic, many of which were popularized by strategy consultants. This silence speaks volumes. 

He does offer that “[w]hile a few academic and journalistic voices raised questions about the hastiness of the innovation in the financial sector, there is little evidence of any strategy consultants throwing their bodies across the tracks in an attempt to slow down the process” [316]. Self-sacrifice and quixotic forms of suicide might not have been required to prevent the damage though. It might only have required the major consulting firms to abstain from preaching the wonder of leverage, or voicing some skepticism.

Notes

1. http://staging.hbp.internetkeep.net/on/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/14942_press_spring-09-catalog.pdf

2. http://nacdny.org/PDF/Kiechel_Bio.pdf

3. http://www.alumni.hbs.edu/bulletin/2001/october/janussource.html

4. http://www.forbes.com/lists/2009/21/private-companies-09_McKinsey-Co_IPPW.html

5. UBS was famously encouraged to adjust its strategy and expand into the CDO market by McKinsey & Co. and Oliver Wyman: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/finance/newsbysector/banksandfinance/2792800/UBS-The-crisis-at-the-heart-of-the-Swiss-bank.html 

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