The Org: The Underlying Logic of the Office by Ray Fisman and Tim Sullivan

By Professor Jeffery Atik

It feels odd to be composing this review of Ray Fisman and Tim Sullivan's The Org in the days following Ronald Coase's passing. Coase was an unusually creative and influential thinker - one who identified some basic truths of organizational life that had not been generally recognized: the kind of simple things that, once pointed out, cannot fail to be seen.

Coase and the work that followed Coase form much of the subject matter of The Org, a book-length meditation by Ray Fisman and Tim Sullivan on the science of the organization. Indeed, Fisman and Sullivan launch the book with the story behind Coase's posing of the grand question: "Why orgs?" Young Coase travels to Chicago, meets with managers, and reads the Chicago phone book. He is struck by the range of scale and activities pursued by the firms he finds. Why then, asks Coase (and ask Fisman and Sullivan), are some activities conducted within firms and others between firms (that is, via the market)? Coase's answer (transaction costs) may or may not be correct ('transaction costs' always seemed to me to be a convenient label for a still elusive explanation, almost a tautology); what is important is the question.

Organizations are mysterious. We fit them on like suits of clothing - and instinctively know how to push and pull their levers. Fisman and Sullivan focus on what happens within the firm - how organizations compel human agents (because that's what we are) to pursue organizational goals. The resort to organization is by and large a given. At this point, they collect the principal/agent mysteries that form much of the challenge to understanding how firms work. Fisman and Sullivan do not confine themselves to business organizations in The Org - indeed their best coverage involves organizations that are not business firms: the Baltimore police department, Methodist churches and the military.

Attraverso Review: The Future as Cultural Fact: Essays on the Global Condition by Arjun Appadurai

By Professor Jeffery Atik

In this collection of essays, Arjun Appadurai links his role as leading globalization scholar to his practice as activist on behalf of the slum dwellers in his native city of Mumbai (or Bombay, the abandoned name Appadurai seems to prefer). Appadurai redeploys globalization theory (and more generally modernization theory, of which globalization is a part) as an ethical practice. He calls for cultivating the capacity to aspire among the world's poor -- an unabashedly cultural project with political and developmental implications. Appadurai argues that the poor must be enabled to aspire -- these aspirations will, in turn, define new and different trajectories from those promised by the passé globalist.
Globalization has failed in its predictions -- and so has failed as science. Globalization, it was thought, would lead to convergence and homogenization, more democracy and tolerance and less nationalism and violence. Yet the world we now see displays strong (and growing stronger) national states and continued developmental disparities. Those enabled by knowledge migrate; their home countries capture disappointing returns from their educational investments. New digital capacities have been harnessed by jealous ethnic groups to reinforce local identities; they can encourage aggression and conflict.

These phenomena play out in Mumbai, as elsewhere. In the central essays on Mumbai, one sees Appadurai's personal disappointments and hopes for the city he left many years ago. His portrait of Bombay -- the wonderfully cosmopolitan possibility of his youth -- is a new city, where peoples from many parts of India and elsewhere mix. The clearest example of Bombay's promise of co-existence is the presence of large and intermixed Hindu and Muslim communities -- but there are Parsis, Jews, Armenians, Syrian Christians and the ever-charming British colonialists adding flavor to the stew. Appadurai insists on the inherent capitalist foundation of the Bombay of his youth -- built on the production of textiles and other industrial goods for export markets. Bombay is thus twice cosmopolitan -- by the inner composition of its multi-ethnic population and by Bombay's full engagement with (and  dependence on) international trade and capital investment.

Appadurai captures this fading Bombay in three delightful depictions. The first is his portrait of Bombay as the City of Cash. Cash in Bombay is not a cold technical concept -- rather it is the species of sociability, displayed and celebrated. The value of cash lies in cash's flashy visibility. One of the functions of cash, of course, is forging social linkages -- and this it does spectacularly well in Bombay. His second Bombay sketch renders the strange linguistic brew spoken there: Marathi at base, but filled with exotic elements provided by the various sub-groups arriving from other parts of India. And the third image of Bombay is colored via the neverland of Bollywood (a name that still incorporates the discarded Bombay) where most of India's ethnicities are featured (though not the local Maharastrians as such), either denatured ("vaguely North Indian") or stereotyped. The music of Bollywood -- its defining element -- flows from the northwest and its traditional ghazal into the streets of Mumbai.

This Bombay exists no more. And so Appadurai asks "What killed Bombay?" The renaming of Bombay marked more than a rejection of a colonial style; Mumbai, the new name, is an artifact of the Shiva Sena, the ruling party that projects a Marathi primacy at odds with Bombay's cosmopolitan past and multicultural present. Mumbai has been scarred by the 1992-1993 Hindu-Muslim riots. One of the thematic challenges of raising the hopes of Mumbai's poor is overcoming these divides.

The View from Mumbai is the core of the book. It reflects the engaged nature of Appadurai's intellectual projects and many of his convictions. Appadurai recounts the actions and practices of a constellation of slum-based NGOs devoted to improving housing for the city's poorest residents. He sees housing as a primary social need, the key to citizenship. Yet Appadurai rejects elite-controlled planning in favor of spontaneous design by the poor themselves -- the model children's toilet celebrated by Kofi Annan being a prime example.

Appadurai notes the internal innovations of the Mumbai NGOs: their patience, their "bias against 'projects'", their nonhierarchical styles, their strategies of precedent. He sees these groups fostering improvement to the lives of Mumbai's slum-dwellers. The central contribution of these housing activists in Appadurai's estimation is increasing the poor's "capacity to aspire."

Improvements in the capacity to aspire can result from deliberate political and social action -- by and on behalf of Mumbai's poor (and by extension the world's poor). These hopeful possibilities result from modernization/globalization -- they depend on e-mail and cell-phones, and the formation of transnational networks of activists, which distribute notions and celebrate achievements. The Future as Cultural Fact is a hopeful book; it suggests that social science can indeed contribute, in a modest manner, to social progress.

Follow me on Twitter @jefferyatik

Attraverso Review: Antifragile: Things That Gain from Disorder by Nassim Nicholas Taleb

By Professor Jeffery Atik

Nassim Nicholas Taleb is back, and in his new book he asserts that his signature idea was not The Black Swan (that was so last book), but rather Antifragility. This second idea shares a viral quality with the first; like the Black Swan, once you catch the notion of antifragility, it's hard to get rid of it.

Antifragility is the characteristic of certain systems to grow stronger when stressed; it is the mirror concept to fragility (where stress destroys). Exercise stresses our muscles, and so renders us stronger. As Taleb insists, antifragility is not robustness -- robustness is merely resistance to stress. Stress improves the antifragile. And in a world where stresses cannot be avoided, it is better to be antifragile.

I admit to being a Taleb fan -- and not everyone is. Most all -- critics and admirers -- agree he is an engaging and imaginative thinker. But he does seem to go out of his way to be, shall we say, difficult. Antifragile is an odd book -- it is a collection of personal essays mixed with some rather formal decision theory. That said, the personal (and the fictional) do serve the argument.

Taleb sees antifragility everywhere. Indeed, he is an avid antifragility spotter -- which results in no small amount of quirkiness in his personal life. At times Taleb convinces, at times he doesn't -- as his examples (or speculations) range from finance to picking bar fights to drinking too much wine. And so we get views of Taleb's various cantankerous postures. Physicians by and large do more harm than good (as they are compelled to do something) -- and so should be avoided outside of dire emergency. Universities are dangerous -- better to wander in a library.

As Taleb would concede, there are many more instances of fragile systems than antifragile ones. So a large part of the book is exploring the roots of fragility -- and possible moves to avoid fragility's dangers. Taleb provides a host of tantalizing heuristics -- take small over large, simple over complex, acute stress over chronic stress, the natural over the artificial. Old technologies are to be prefered over new ones -- as those technologies that have already survived the stresses of experience are more likely to remain viable (this is an example of the Lindy effect). It is no surprise that Taleb writes with a fountain pen. Of course Taleb may be wrong in particular instances. I suppose his cardiologist (if he has one) is horrified by his binging diet and his disdain for statins.

Attraverso Review: Debt: The First 5,000 Years by David Graeber

By Professor Jeffery Atik

Graeber's Debt: The First 5,000 Years is a grand intellectual project and a call for action. Graeber's book moves debt to the center of political discourse.
America is built on debt. Indeed, assuming our fair share of debt can be seen as an American duty. We obtain housing, education, transport and medical services through our use of credit -- and as such we spend most of our lives deeply indebted. The root of our notion of freedom (echoed, as Graeber points out, in religious imagery) is freedom from debt -- and if this is so, then by no means is America the land of the free.

Graeber's overview of 5,000 years of debt demonstrates that debt is not a neutral social instrument. Rather debt is first and foremost an institution allowing for the exercise of power. Debt is the foundation of hierarchy and hence much social structure.

Read my full-length review of David Graeber's Debt in the Los Angeles Review of Books.

Follow the author on Twitter @jefferyatik.

Book Review: What Chinese Want: Culture, Communism and the Modern Chinese Consumer by Tom Doctoroff

By Professor Jeffery Atik

In this unabashedly pop business book, Tom Doctoroff, head of the J. Walter Thompson advertising firm in China, tells us What Chinese Want. Yet the implicit question is complex: what do the Chinese want for themselves? For their children? For China? And to answer the question coherently involves considerable psychological framework. Doctoroff is an ad guy -- so the question that lies squarely within his expertise might be: what does the Chinese consumer want to consume? And this question he begins to answer. He is less certain -- and less convincing -- when applying the insights he draws from Chinese consumption habits to the more mysterious nature of Chinese culture, politics and foreign policy.

I suppose we can learn something meaningful about the Chinese from studying their patterns of material consumption -- even using the tools of an advertising executive. In some sense, Doctoroff's inquiry is an exercise in applied cultural anthropology -- though his ends are more instrumental than scientific. So which firms are doing well in China -- and what do their successful adaptations suggest?

Starbucks, Doctoroff tells us, has configured larger stores in China which serve as group meeting places. The Chinese consumer would not pay the equivalent for $4.00 for a cup of coffee for private consumption (this may reveal the inherent cross-elasticity of Starbucks coffee and ubiquitous hot tea). The consumer will do so, however, when observed by others; the Starbucks customer's extravagant expenditure for a latte is justified by a gain in social standing. And so by facilitating the prospect of mutual observation -- by providing large, welcoming meeting spaces -- Starbucks sells coffee in China.

Book Review: A Capitalism for the People: Recapturing the Lost Genius of American Prosperity by Luigi Zingales

By Professor Jeffery Atik

In the preface to A Capitalism for the People, Luigi Zingales recounts his departure from an Italian university for the wonderland of American academia. Here merit, neither contacts nor obsequious devotion to one's supervisor, is the key to success and Zingales' triumphs. He becomes an admired professor at the University of Chicago business school, a place he praises for its openness, its devotion to excellence and its rejection of status-based primacy (pity the poor dean, newly arrived from Stanford, who is devastated by the slashing comments of a junior colleague).

But the broader America he sees around him does not match -- in aim or reach -- what Zingales finds at Chicago. Zingales returns to the theme developed in his earlier writing: the United States is burdened with crony capitalism, the same social disease he sought to escape in emigrating from Italy. American business -- and American politics -- is dominated by corrupt elites who prefer protection and status quo to competition and innovation. Zingales introduces a neat distinction -- America remains pro-business, but it is no longer pro-market. And so Zingales seeks to reintroduce and reinvigorate competition in American economic and political life.

Zingales invites us to revive American populism -- and by this he intends the trust-busting populism of Theodore Roosevelt and not the proto-fascism of Huey Long nor the toxic nativism of the KKK. The focus is returning prosperity to the common American, and not further enriching Wall Street, Pharma, agriculture, government contractors, and the greater bulk of big business. Yet his populism is capitalist at heart. If the ties between government and business can be broken, new and vital businesses will thrive. Political life will improve as well, if the distortions and distractions introduced by lobbyists can be pruned back.

Book Review: Why Nations Fail - The Origins of Power, Prosperity, and Poverty by Daron Acemoglu and James Robinson

By Professor Jeffery Atik

Acemoglu and Robinson's Why Nations Fail is a thrilling read. It proposes answers to grand questions: Why are some nations rich? Why are others poor? Why are there such great disparities? Their theory is seductive -- yet it ultimately fails to give much guidance as to what can be done.

The key to prosperity, in the authors' view, can be found in a nation's political and economic institutions. The operative distinction is whether these institutions are extractive or inclusive. The most successful countries will have inclusive political and economic institutions; the most desperate will be afflicted with extractive institutions. Prescriptions seem tantalizingly accessible at first: simply replace extractive institutions with inclusive ones. But this is not so easy, Acemoglu and Robinson caution.

Labeling the 'bad' institutions extractive (as opposed to the more symmetrical 'exclusive') is a nice turn of phrase. Economists use the term extractive to describe economies that exploit endowments of valued natural resources, such as oil, gold or Mr. Kurtz's ivory, that are literally extracted. But the authors intend to characterize the relationship between the elites and the masses; elites 'extract' power and wealth from human resources through oppressive political and economic institutions.

In proposing an institutional account of prosperity, Acemoglu and Robinson reject cultural and geographic explanations. There is nothing peculiar about Northern European Protestantism (despite Weber's assertion) that suits it to the accumulation of wealth -- and folks living in temperate climes are not more industrious (or if they are -- they are not more likely to be successful). Technology is also non-determinative -- as opportunities for technological progress are frequently rejected by extractive states. Inclusive states -- the authors argue -- tend to be more receptive to new technologies, and hence enjoy the welfare gains innovation throws off.

Book review: What Money Can't Buy: The Moral Limits of Markets by Michael J. Sandel

By Professor Jeffery Atik

In What Money Can't Buy, Michael Sandel decries the emergence of markets that displace older norms, "commodifying" earlier forms of social organization that better correspond to our (or Sandel's) ethical intuitions. Sandel is bothered by fast track lanes, priority boarding, sales of organs or surrogate mothering services, paying for grades, and what he describes as the "skyboxification" of American society. While there remain some things money cannot buy, many things can be bought today that in prior times were allocated using non-market norms.

Sandel views with alarm the increasing hegemony of markets -- where markets are the go-to policy prescription for every social want. If we wish to boost the performance of inner-city school children, we should pay them for academic achievement -- according to a market-line of thinking. There's a cost, argues Sandel, to the application of market notions to novel domains, as markets operate (through "incentives," a neologism that Sandel mocks) to displace other values, such as inculcating a love of learning, devoting oneself to one's children and savoring a sense of community. Markets intrude on moral domains and limit the scope for moral discourse -- and this loss is under-appreciated.

All true enough -- but in at least some cases non-market values have displaced markets. For much of its history, the draft had market features. One could buy one's way out of Lincoln's draft -- or find a replacement to serve. And during most of the Vietnam era, the wealthy could avoid the draft by remaining in school. The draft, of course, has been suspended for several decades, but it is hard to imagine its return in any form with buy-outs. There may be other examples where the relevant institutional shift is away from markets: it was much easier to buy one's way into an Ivy League school a generation ago than it is now (Sandel concedes that even now it may be possible for some to do so).