In Recollections from the University of Vienna, given at New York University, 1962 (33:43), Mises says (my transcription):
“All universities in central Europe, continental Europe, are state universities. Even the idea that a university could be a private institution is foreign to most of these countries. And the universities are operated by the government, and of course they have — there is a fundamental difference between these universities and the other governmental institutions, the difference is — academic freedom.
“Academic freedom means that while all government employees and functionaries of the government are bound to obey in the exercise of their functions strictly what has been told to them by their — ordered to them by their — superiors, teachers at the universities — all teachers at the universities — and schools of the same rank (technological universities and today also commercial universities) are — and government employees who have no superior — they, nobody — not even the cabinet member representing duties of the supreme manager of instruction — has the right to interfere in any way with their teaching.
“This was/is of very great importance, of course, because there were in these countries again and again tendencies to influence the teaching of law and still more the teaching of economics and political science — social sciences in general.”
Recast with elipses:
“Academic freedom means that … [regarding] teachers at the universities … nobody … has the right to interfere in any way with their teaching.”
There are two points to note. Firstly, it is clear that Mises, in this lecture, is principally being descriptive, not prescriptive. However, it is also clear that Mises agrees that this ideal of academic freedom is the way that things should be. We can see this from his careful casting of the definition of academic freedom, which connotes a category of freedom defensible on principle.
Secondly, one cannot miss the fact that despite this official policy of academic freedom, the reality differed, and we know that Mises, for example, a proponent of what we today call the Austrian school, came to influence not as a professor, but as a privatdozent.
{ 11 comments }
By Cromm! No English teacher I ever had would have tollerated such elaborate overuse of the comma.
It took three tries through the last sentence/paragraph to make sure Gil was saying what it seemed he was saying.
Which is of course all beside the point. Reality always differs from theory, a basic underpinning of why Austrians eschew numeric predictions.
Curt:
You’re quite right. In fact, Mr. Guilory’s sentences (including the last–the one on which you focused) are excellently constructed and miss perfection simply through inappropriate punctuation. The use of a comma to join essentially equivalent sentences has always been a feature of uneducated and undereducated writing; lately, though, it seems to have crept stealthily back into the writing of many of the otherwise quite capable. In school (over 50 years ago), it was customary for compositions to be devalued by one full “letter” grade for each instance of any one of five cardinal sins (of composition): comma-splice (the name of that to which I’ve referred); misspelling; misplaced modifier; dangling participle; and finally, one other I’ve forgotten. The price paid for relaxing of such standards is exactly that you’ve described: greater difficulty (and time spent) in grasping the sense of what one reads.
The relaxation of grammatical (and compositional) standards has been going on for many years. I can’t provide a coherent explanation for its “progress” but it seems, in some way, to be related to a professedly iconoclastic or rule-breaking set of mind. Some 30 to 40 years ago, this “school” of thought (on matters grammatical) achieved a victory of sorts in gaining dominance for a very peculiar departure from ordinary form: the dropping of a comma separating the penultimate from the ultimate of words–things, terms, or phrases–in a series. Though this change masqueraded as “simplification,” it takes but a moment’s reflection to realize that it’s quite the opposite. Evidently, the iconoclastic sort have no use for aristocracy of the sort represented by the Earl of Ockham.
It’s a blog entry, not a manifesto. Comma splice admitted. And I probably shouldn’t have used “influence” as a noun.
Gene: the missing rule not to be broken — is it a split infinitive? Many are seen to gladly break that rule.
That being said, though, Curt, it seems you need a session “out behind the woodshed” yourself.
“Reality always differs from theory” indeed! Or had you forgotten a foundational slogan of the Mises Institute: “There can never be enough of correct theory”?
Whatever is done by human beings (insofar as it is not merely reflex or operation of the autonomous portion of our anatomy) presupposes theory. And, in that vast realm of activiities in which we interact with physical realities–including the existence of others like ourselves–of the external world, departures from theoretical expectation are universal for a number of reasons (chief among them being inability to assess either magnitude or degree of influence of variables known to be influential combined with a total ignorance of yet others). In such endeavors, failure in predictive perfection cannot be laid to lack of logical rigor: there always are (and will be) both influences and quantitative relationships beyond our present knowledge (or even eventual comprehension). It is this ultimate understanding that underlies the Austrian regard for all quantitative economic study as nothing more than counterproductive rubbish–not the insufficiency of “theory” to conform to “reality.”
Quite simply, Austrian theory conforms to reality because, like mathematics, it is teleologic or, as detractors would put it, “truistic.” It proceeds by logically irrefutable steps from the axiomatic foundation that men attach meaning and purpose to that which they do–that, in short, they “act.” And, further, that all other men (knowledeable as to that attached meaning and purpose) are in position to appreciate and evaluate the likely efficacy of such action. It is true that many of those not acquainted with the Austrian methodology are inclined to distrust all systems based on axioms (of whatever provenance); this view is particularly pronounced in very many “scientifically” inclined. These overlook (or have never considered) the fact that, if the axiom that “men act” cannot be accepted, all effort to understand–anything whatever, including that which we call “science”–is a waste of effort, a sham devoid of any meaning whatever.
Is is possible you are engaged in posting on a Mises blogsite without ever having read what the man himself had to say on such matters in the first section of HUMAN ACTION?
Gil:
I’m of the opinion that “influence,” depending on use, is appropriately used as either noun or verb.
No, it wasn’t the split infinitive (the one i couldn’t remember), though that was also seen as an infraction of a lesser degree in days of yore. It always seemed to me that the (now discarded) rule on the split infinitive was quite unnecessarily restrictive and was based on an artificial re-cementing of the “to” to the verb concerned (as it would have been–one word–in Latin). More or less through habit, I don’t split ‘em but I have no objection whatever to the practice; ordinarily, it detracts not a whit from comprehension–the sine qua non of good writing in my own opinion. My guess at the moment is that the one (of the five) missing was some “disagreement” (case, tense, or number) or “lack of paralellism.”
For some reason, I never had any trouble with those things–actually only once made such an error (actually a “typo” in transcription). And, because it was obviously a “typo” (spelled correctly several other places in the body), I only got marked down to an A- on the paper, titled (impressively! heh, heh) “Paleoanthropological Evidence Supporting Present Theories of Human Evolution.” I wrote it in 1954 or so for an English Comp class but, within a couple years, it had found its way into the subrosa “term paper” business market and sold for $100. But, astoundingly, I heard of it being sold–now for $300–in the last 10 years or so! I shoulda ben a contenduh–and got royalties.
Gene, you misunderstand me. There are lots and lots of theories which are used to predict absolute values, which might work once but not all the time. This is the error of numeric measurement which Mises referrs to, and what I was referring to by saying that reality doesn’t conform itself to theory.
Correct theory? Sure, just like correct facts. Everything you say is true except for assuming I am unread in the library of Austrian economics. I am somewhat less theoretical than your writings suggest of yourself, much more grounded in simplicity.
For instance, it matters very little to me that Mr. Guillory’s sentences are technically perfectly structured. What struck me is that they were hard to read.
Having never read _Last Of The Mohicans_, my experience has instead been that the harder something is to read the more likely it is to have been written with error.
I’m reading an even better novel right now that strings together many sentences using commas:
“The Double” by Jose Saramago
I am enjoying this read so far; his novel “Blindness” is a masterpiece…
Curt:
You certainly won’t be the first to regard my commentary as somewhat pedantic, pedagogical, needlessly technical, or even overly burdened by qualification. My rejoinder is that (while acknowledging that we all have our limitations, including those self-imposed) such is the proper way to the very same end:
simplicity and ease of comprehension.
Take a moment to reread your penultimate paragraph: in its own way, it’s a gem of proof of my original comments. That which has been written properly, i.e., using words correctly chosen, placed in the proper order, and separated by (yes, technically) appropriate punctuation, provides the simplest, most direct exposition and communication–for the reader. It was my observation (and I think you’ll agree) that the ONLY thing wrong with Gil’s offering was its hasty inattention to punctuation.
I agree fully with the sentiment favoring simplicity; but even many things considered “simple” (think here of the category termed “simple machines”: lever, inclined plane, etc.) and their step-by-step development to present stages proceeded only as some were able to tease out very real complexities, rendering them so very widely comprehensible. I don’t agree that complexity (in expression) implies error: this is merely an inescapable result of the fact that the more complex presents greater opportunity (for error) and greater difficulty in its detection (coupled with the fact that those seeking to deceive or obfuscate deliberately choose the more complex precisely in order to take advantage of that greater difficulty).
There’s one more thing to be said (and understood) about complexity, whether of constructions, processes, or expression. And that is, that somewhat like beauty, it’s in the eye of the beholder. The internal combustion engine and its operation are “simple” to the professional mechanic and far less so to the average person. Yet even the mechanic may not comprehend the laws of thermodynamics on which the operation of that engine depends. What we know (and even what we think we know but are actually in error about) frequently seems “simple”. The very simplification which seems a desirable goal insofar as it accompanies understanding is actually a two-edged sword–and a very dangerous one, at that. Should you incline to disagree, I offer you the very real and ever-present threat of collectivist totalitarianism. The fundamental and simple (though entirely erroneous) intellectual lure presented is the seemingly self-evident prospect that a “planned” economy offers far better chances for satisfaction of the wants of most involved than the “chaotic” and “disorderly” one not subject to authoritarian control. The argument is persuasive not only to wild-eyed Bolshevik revolutionaries, impoverished African tribesmen, and the 53 million Americans who wanted Senator Kerry as President but also to the majority of the “conservative” majority who look not askance at myriad regulatory interventions into economic and other spects of our lives. It may be bone-simple for you and me but we (and others like-minded) have our work cut out for us in trying to explain it to others. The fact is, we need all the correct theory, artful expression, and proper punctuation we can muster for the job.
By the way, Curt, I’ve never read “The Last of the Mohicans,” either. In my own case, I was dissuaded from bothering with it just about 60 years ago by reading “James Fenimore Cooper and His Literary Offenses” a piece making points similar to your own, written by Mark Twain in days, even then, long gone by.
Thank you for the pointer, I wonder if I will be able to find a copy of “…Offenses” somewhere.
At least we’re on the same side, eh what?
Yes, of course, Curt. I rarely “talk’ to any other; the correction of the collectivist mindset is a job for Superman (or at least Mises, et al), not for mere mortals like myself.
Astounding! The recollection of “Literary Offenses” (I do hope you find it) reminded me of two other items having to do with the everyday, circumstantial importance of such “technicalities” as proper punctuation.
The first is that, in a tariff bill introduced in the House (and which was subsequently passed into law), a sentence which included fruit and trees (thusly: fruit, trees,…) in a group to be taxed on entry, was transcribed incorrectly as
“fruit-trees,” thus exempting both fruit and trees other than fruit-trees. By the time it was discovered and corrected, it had cost the Treasury a tidy sum (and no comments, snide or otherwise, as to our opinion on trade restriction).
The other concerned the plight of one Moses Prendergast, a near-illiterate black ex-slave of 1870s Missouri who wished to bid on a government mail-delivering contract to a large, spread-out, rural route, employing not only his own labor gut that of a mule to be furnished by him and at his expense. He wished to bid $400 per year on the 5-year contract (and would have been the low-bid winner at that price). But he wrote “$4.00″ in the space provided and was required to perform to the contract specification at that price. To make matters even worse, the U.S. exercised a “fine-print” “option clause” to increase the size of the route by the maximum amount permitted–50%–on a prorata basis, increasing Moses’ yearly stipend proportionately–to$6. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, when the punishing and penurious (the pay couldn’t feed the mule) five years were nearly over and Moses anticipated a well-deserved re-emancipation, the government sprung another “option clause” on him–extending his contract by an additional 5 years at the same rate!
I said “astounding!” and I meant it. The astounding part is that both these examples of the critical importance of technicalities such as punctuation are also related by none other than Mark Twain, though I cannot tell you the name of the pieces in which they’re contained.
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